PONY: Police Operative and Nonpareil Youths
by GodSaveTheKings
Summary: Psychopaths. Terrorists. Murderers. Beings with a disdain for all life, whose only purpose is the elimination of humanity. As part of a government operation, six young girls have been recruited to fight such a threat. Yet in this dark, twisted world, where everyone has something to hide, they're unprepared for what lies ahead. They aren't ready to fight. But they are our only hope.
1. Chapter 1: Of Humble Origins

**Warning: The following story contains material meant for a mature audience, including, but not limited to, adult situations, adult language, and graphic violence. Those who will be easily offended by such content should read at their own risk.**

**Note: The following story depicts scenes involving adult situations meant for a mature audience. These scenes are made for the purpose of the narrative, and by no means are meant to reflect any real life occurrences. All connections made to real life persons, places, or events are purely coincidental, and should be treated as such.**

**Note: The characters in this story have their own personalities and opinions. Often, this may include prejudices, such as sexist, racist, and homophobic remarks. All statements in the story are created solely for the narrative, and do not reflect any views or opinions of the authors. **

**Note: If anything in the following story is worth noting, positive or negative, good or bad, leave a comment about via review. If every person who read this sentence left a review, the impact would be incredible. We at GodSaveTheKings greatly appreciate feedback, as it substantially helps with the writing process. So please, make your voice heard.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Of Humble Origins**

**October 3rd, 2015**

As the sun began to rise in the October sky, wind blew through the trees, causing them to shudder, and shed their colorful leaves to the ground. The dim light shone down upon the row of houses that lined up on Drawing Road. Each of these houses was filled to the brim with college students, desperately trying to hold on to a few more minutes of sleep before they were forcibly awoken by their sense of moral responsibility. After all, when trying to achieve a goal in life, one must make sure they arrive at class on time. But for now, all that mattered was the fading dreams of sex and fame, and the youths clutched onto them, trying to remain blissfully asleep. This was the behavior of all students living in the houses on Drawing Road. All students, except for one.

One student who studied at a schedule thought to be completely unreasonable by her peers. One student who locked herself in her room with books from the moment class ended, studied all day, and then fell asleep at a reasonable hour. One student who believed that waking up at 5:15 in the morning was waking up fifteen minutes far too late. One student who had made sure her hair was neatly tucked into a ponytail, and her makeup properly applied by the time most teenagers would be fading back into consciousness. The only student who had planned the rest of her life all the way to the end of her days. And now, when she walked around her room, calmly collecting her textbooks and organizing them into easy-to-carry piles, she was always greeted with her first human interaction of the day. Sometimes it came from beneath the creaky floorboards, while other times it came from the other side of the wall, which was covered with pictures of Einstein and Newton. Occasionally, someone had the courtesy to open the door, but it was a rarity. And the while the phrasing was always different, the message contained the same basic idea. And this day was no different, as a voice from beneath shouted,

"DAMNIT SULLIVAN! COULD YOU MAKE ANY MORE FUCKING NOISE?! SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO GET SOME GOD DAMN SLEEP!"

Tara never understood the need to use such harsh language. She believed that the message would be understood of less profanity was involved, something her peers never quite seemed to grasp. Nevertheless, she finished packing her books, taking fewer steps to avoid the creaking of her wooden floor. Her parents had insisted that she sleep in one of the houses provided for the seniors instead of settle with the rest of the freshmen in the dorms, or fight her way into a sorority. Money may have had its privileges, but it did not help Tara feel less lonely in the house. Once her books were properly put away, she checked over her outfit in the mirror for a fourth time.

Her parents had told Tara to always dress properly, no matter where she went. Even after she turned eighteen and gained her freedom, she never forgot the lessons her parents taught her. She had on a simple white buttoned shirt and a skirt, meant to show her formal side. Due to the cold, windy weather, she also put on a dark blue sweater, which wrapped her snugly in its wool confines. She adjusted her ponytail, and took a long look at the bright pink bangs that were hanging near her face. Though she would never admit it, her dyed hair had grown on her. What started as an attempt to be one with the popular girls at high school had now become one of Tara's most loved features about her appearence. She smiled at herself in the mirror, and then finished her mental checklist.

"Textbooks: check. Proper clothing: check," she muttered to herself, absentmindedly brushing the bangs out of her face. "Purse: check. 35-page essay: check. Gift for Fiona…" Tara looked at the book wrapped nicely in green paper that was lying on her desk. "Check." The list continued, as Tara accounted for her many assignments for her advanced classes. By the time she was finished, she could hear the sounds of other students shuffling about the house, preparing themselves for another round of classes. Feeling like she was properly prepared, Tara opened up her desk, reached into the drawer, and pulled out a whole grain Energy Crunch Nutrition Bar. She quickly ate her breakfast, grabbed her books, her gift, her purse, and her assignments, and left the house towards the campus.

Tara arrived on the campus of Ymerton College and took a long look around. She could see that students had quickly begun to arrive at campus, meeting with friends and trying to enjoy the autumn weather. But that was of no concern of hers. All she needed to do at this moment was locate her friend somewhere among the campus. Tara began walking about the ground littered with red and yellow leaves, searching under nearby trees for her lost friend. Suddenly, she heard the sound of crunching leaves behind her, approaching at a quickening pace.

_That doesn't sound like Fiona,_ she thought. The crunching was nearing, and she realized only one person would _want_ to talk to her, let alone run to her.

"Hey, Tara," a strong southern voice shouted from behind her. Tara turned around to face the woman who was standing proudly before her, always at attention, her Stetson placed firmly atop her long blonde hair. Green eyes stared back at Tara's brown ones, and Tara found herself talking to one of her best friends.

"Oh," spoke Tara, expressing some slight enjoyment out of seeing someone that she knew. "Hey, Tori. You look rather chipper for someone who doesn't like mornings."

"Well, not as chipper as you always seem to be, despite wakin' up a good few hours 'fore the rest of us," replied Tori with a smirk, as she and Tara began to walk calmly around the campus. "Besides, I finally got a half-decent night's sleep. I really don't know how ya do it, girl. Goin' to sleep at fricken eight o' clock!"

Victoria Black had been one of the few people at the college that Tara could actually consider her friend. She had run into Tori on the first day of the school year, a time when Tara was spending all of her focus on triple-checking her book supply. After helping Tori with some assignments, the two became good friends. Tori had an unmistakable aura about her, a feeling that transcended to Tara every time they talked, like she felt more confident in herself simply by being in the presence of the southern girl. The two walked across the field in front of the main building, stepping across a league of multicolored leaves as they walked.

"Well," spoke Tara, confidently, "Maybe I can afford to sleep earlier because I don't waste my time with boys or parties."

"Neither do I! I study this stuff for hours!" Tori exclaimed, with a clear tone of annoyance. "Damn, no one can hold onto information like you can, girl. What takes me four hours, takes ya 'bout fifteen minutes, tops."

"Well, I always _have_ had a good memory," Tara rubbed the back of head, taking in the compliment. "Hey, you ever going to take that thing off?" said Tara pointing to Tori's hat. "It's been, like, a month!"

Tori looked insulted, taking one free hand, and stroking her hat with it. She scoffed at Tara, as if Tara had somehow insulted her very soul.

"I'll have you know that this _thing_ is very precious to me. It was a gift to me from my mom. This Stetson is the only thing I got to remember her by." Tori's expression softened, as she looked up at her hat. Her somber mood lasted briefly, however, as she playfully punched Tara in the arm, scolding her. "Now don't you dare insult Winola again, ya here me?"

Tara rolled her eyes at Tori, like a disobedient child being scolded by a parent. "Yes, ma'am," Tara finished her words with a mock salute, playing along with Tori. But after a few seconds, she started giggling uncontrollably.

"Wait. You… named the hat?" Tara tried to stifle her laughter, but was finding that she could not hold her mad giggles in, and soon, she burst into hysterics. Tori's face flushed red, and she turned away from Tara to hide her embarrassment.

"Hey! There's nothin' wrong with namin' things that ya care about!" Tori tried to defend herself, but Tara started laughing even more, holding herself against a nearby tree, as she was getting dangerously close to tears.

"What?! Is it laugh like a laugh dog?! Like a laugh pet?! Hahahaha!" Tara could barely control herself, now leaning fully against the tree for support, as tears rolled down her face. Tori's embarrassment was slowly turning into anger, as she began to shout at Tara.

"HEY!" Tori pointed angrily at Tara's laughing form. "IT'S NOT THAT FUNNY, YA HEAR!"

"Oh, it's funny alright! laugh In fact, it may laugh be the funniest thing laugh I ever heard! Hahah- Whoa, hey, what are you doing?!" Tara's laughter was cut short as Tori picked her up and pinned Tara forcibly to the tree. The force at which Tori used was strong enough to rattle most of the leaves left on the tree, sending them fluttering to the ground.

"Alright! Alright! It's not funny! I'm sorry!" Tara begged Tori, as tears continued to fall down Tara's face.

"Yer damn right you're sorry!" Tori yelled back at her, releasing Tara and letting her fall to the ground. Tara finished wiping the tears from her eyes, as Tori picked up a small package that had fallen to the ground. "By the way," Tori continued, her heavy breathing indicating that she was calming down, "Ya dropped this." Tori handed Tara the small package.

"Thanks," said Tara accepting back her package. "I really need that."

_Damn it, _Tara suddenly thought.

Tara's face went blank, as she realized that speaking to Tori had wasted precious time.

"Oh man," muttered Tara, looking around feverishly. "Tori, have you seen Fiona around here? I was supposed to be looking for her, but I can't find her anywhere!" Tara continued to glance around for her missing friend, but she realized that she was running out of time to give her the gift.

"Fiona…" thought Tori aloud, thinking of the aforementioned girl that Tara was looking for. "Isn't she that girl with the really long pink hair…"

"Yes…"

"…and always wears a hoodie…"

"YES…"

"…and she has a lot major social problems?"

Tara was practically losing her mind by this by point, just wanting a straight answer to her friend's whereabouts.

"Have you seen her or not?!" Tara shouted at her friend, practically ready to tear her hair out.

"Look behind you," Tori claimed nonchalantly, seeming unaware of her friend's internal struggle. Tara spun around 180 degrees, and spotted a dainty figure sitting quietly beneath an oak tree. Though the girl was clearly wearing a small hood meant to cover her face. However, even without seeing her soft features, Tara could still see the long strands of pink hair falling past the girl's soldiers, clearly giving her identity away.

"Thanks, Tori," Tara quickly said to her friend before rushing off to the oak tree.

"See ya later, girl!" responded Tori, as she made her way into the building complex. Tara slowed her pace as she approached the tree, not wanting to startle Fiona. She slowed down to a calm walk, and carefully prepared a greeting for the shy girl. She walked up next to Fiona, and was pleasantly surprised to see that Fiona had focused all of her attention on a bird some 20 feet away from them. Tara decided to alert Fiona to her presence with a calm, simple greeting.

"Good morning, Fiona," Tara spoke in bliss. Fiona practically jumped out of her skin, her shriek of terror scaring away the bird. Fiona covered her face with her arms, not wishing to see whoever disturbed her. Eventually, she lowered her arms and, while still slightly shivering, recognized the girl who had interrupted her.

"Oh…" Fiona whispered. "H-Hello, Tara. I d-didn't expect to s-see you there." Fiona avoided eye-contact, as if Tara would use her vision to dig deep down into Fiona's chest and tear her heart into pieces.

Tara sighed at the frightened girl, and smiled kindly at her. "It's fine, Fiona. Sorry I scared you."

"You didn't scare me," muttered Fiona. She gulped, and readjusted her bright red hoodie to hide her blushing face. "I just… wasn't expecting to see you right there." Tara kept smiling at Fiona's attempt to be courageous, and extended out the present to Fiona.

"Well, as a token of apology, and our friendship, I decided to give you this," Tara proudly presented the wrapped gift to Fiona, and Fiona nervously reached out towards the gift. But, instead of graciously accepting it, Fiona shook her head, pushing it back towards Tara.

"Oh no," said Fiona. "You didn't have to get _me_ anything. I really don't need it…"

"C'mon Fiona," Tara urged, pushing the present back towards Fiona. "I got this just for you." Fiona once again forced the book back into Tara's hands, refusing the acknowledgement of friendship.

"I couldn't _possibly _accept anything Tara," Fiona stated shyly. "Don't get me wrong. I'm sure it's lovely and all, but you probably spent good money on that, and I don't want you to waste your money on me, and-"

Fiona was cut short as Tara dropped the gift onto Fiona's lap, and then grabbed Fiona's face, forcing her to keep eye-contact.

"Fiona," Tara said sternly. "Take it." Fiona sighed reluctantly, as Tara let go of Fiona's head with a smile on her face. Fiona took a few seconds to study the gift. She looked at its dimensions, and wriggled it around so she could hear if anything rattled around. After enough waiting, she simply decided to rip open the wrapping and the bow, and to her surprise, discovered a very large book, so massive in size, that it could be used as a weapon of self-defense. On the front cover, a beautiful bird of paradise was showing of its wings, and in large font, read, _The Complete Guide to the Wonderful Animal Kingdom**.**_ Fiona was left speechless, wondering how Tara had managed to acquire such a fine book.

"I remembered when we met that you said you loved animals," said Tara, beaming with pride at Fiona's reaction. "So, I decided to get you something really special for being a good friend and all, and the animal thing just fit, so… well… here you go!" Fiona had no idea what she should say. It was probably one of the best gifts she had ever gotten, and all for simply being a good friend. Fiona knew she didn't deserve it. She hadn't gone to any sleepovers, or talked for hours about the future, or even really held a long conversation with Tara. But apparently, she was friend enough, for she was now in possession of a book on her favorite topic, that of which she could spend years learning about.

"I… I…" Fiona stuttered, unsure of what to say to the proud girl standing over her. She readjusted her hood, and turned away from Tara, an effort to hide her face. "Th-Thank you," Fiona eventually managed to squeak out. She then stared dreamily at the book in front of her. The two stayed in comfortable silence for a while, before Tara decided that it was time to leave.

"Um…" Tara eventually muttered out, unsure how to say farewell. "Bye, Fiona. Enjoy the book." Fiona gave a slight nod as confirmation, never looking away from the book. Tara walked away from Fiona towards the main building. As she was walking away, Tara looked over her shoulder, and saw Fiona still fixated on her book, never looking away. Tara felt a great sense of accomplishment, as he turned back to face the building.

And immediately collided with someone trying to jog past her.

"Hey, watch where you're fucking going!" The girl next to her exclaimed as they both slowly rose to their feet.

_Oh great_, thought Tara. _Of all the people I could run into, it had to be _her,_ didn't it._

Tara took a long look at the only person on campus that she could honestly say she didn't like. She wore a leather jacket, not because it would keep her warm, but because she thought it would look cool. She got into one of the highest rated colleges in the states, not because of her academics, but because she was the best at any sport she tried. Her speed was legendary, and her nickname became the representation of that. She didn't care about anything rational, like politics, or literature, or even society in general. She disliked everyone, and everyone disliked her. But she reveled in it. She enjoyed the attention it gave her. And to make herself stand out against the rational people, she decided to dye her hair every last color of the rainbow. So when she noticed the academic-focused, straight-walking Tara Sullivan, she wanted to drain every last bit of fun out of Tara's life.

And Tara had just collided with her.

"Hey, what do you know? Its society's perfect fucking princess," she said with a sneer as she stretched out her limbs after the fall. "How are ya today, science tits?"

"You know, Dash," said Tara angrily, picking herself up off of the ground. "I really _don't_ have time for this."

"What? Not a fan of the nickname?" Dash mocked. "Don't worry, babe. I'll find you a nickname someday. How about 'Brainiac'? Or 'Right-Winged'? Or just 'B-I-T-C-H'?" Tara ignored Dash, walking past her in order to get to her classes. Suddenly, she felt Dash grab onto the back of her sweater, and yank her back away from the building, towards the fields from which she came.

"Hey! What are you-" Tara tried to yell in protest, but felt Dash throw her back, causing her to nearly lose her balance. Before she knew what was happening, Dash had wrapped her arm around Tara's neck, and pulled them close together, so Dash could talk straight into Tara's ear.

"Shut the fuck up for a minute, would ya? I'm trying to show you something." Dash took her free hand, and waved it broadly out in front of them, showing of the various students marching around the campus. "Tell me, Tara, what do you see?"

"I see a bunch of students doing what they're supposed to be doing: _going to class," _Tara angrily muttered to Dash, wishing she could join the students, and not be harassed by crazy teenagers.

"You see, I see something very differently. I see a bunch of people wasting their lives trying to fit in with everyone else. You may be too trapped in your own little fucking fairytale land to see it, but I can see everything the way it truly is. For example…" Dash glanced briefly around the campus, and spotted a girl fifty yards away. "…her."

Tara looked in the direction Dash motioned to, and saw a girl her age bouncing frantically up and down. Upon closer examination, Tara noticed that the girl was only wearing pink clothing, from her shirt to her socks. Even her short, curly blonde hair had multiple pink streaks running through hair. Then, Tara then realized the girl had a massive smile on her face, and was holding a batch of cupcakes. She bounced her way to various students, trying to sell her goods. And yet, despite the fact that no one was buying any cupcakes, she remained incredibly cheery, and continued to bounce around the campus, her bright blue eyes, which seemed to be too large for her head, only sensing innocence in the world around her.

"So?" Tara asked, confused about why Dash wanted to show her this. "That's Patricia Patrikson. She may be a little… _strange_, but, she's just a sugar addict. Nothing more."

Dash sighed in annoyance. "You don't get it. That's _Pinky_ Patrikson. The 'sugar' addict. The only sugar she uses will get most people five fucking years in prison. How do you think she gets so hyper?" Dash brought her free hand to her nose, and made a snorting noise against her hand, winking at Tara. Tara looked again at Pinky, noticing how fast she moved around, and how her eyes constantly darted back and forth around the campus. She barely had time to notice, as Dash quickly brought her attention to Chip Larrick, one of the most muscular men on the campus, and the dream of girls of all ages. What he lacked in brainpower, he made up for it in muscle. And it just so happened that he had a lot of muscle.

"Chip Larrick is a bodybuilder and an idiot," claimed Tara, clearly not impressed. "What do you want me to know about him?"

"You think those muscles are real," Dash stated. She chuckled slightly, before continuing on. "Please… his muscles are about as real as my dick. He just trying to get blown to make up for the fact that he's got shit for brains. He's got nothing in life, and he never will have anything. And… Oh, look at that couple!" exclaimed Dash, noticing two people walking out of the corner of her eye.

Tara immediately recognized the "couple". The first was a younger boy wearing girly purple clothes, despite having a contrasting green Mohawk. His name was Spyke, as she recalled, and he was typically a nice boy. Though he didn't say much, he would always be nice to her, such as loaning her textbooks or joining study sessions.

Then there was the girl he was always following around. She, as far as most were concerned, was one of the most beautiful people on the campus, perhaps in the whole country. By any standards, she would have been considered a model, with her confident walk, blooming height, and features equivalent to that of a goddess. On the first day of classes, the two had run into each other, and Tara immediately recognized what she was in for. The girl was addicted to fashion, always having some new dress to wear, or tying her long purple hair into a unique pattern. She had recommended giving Tara a complete makeover, as she was "appalled" by what she saw. Tara hadn't spoken to her since that day, but she was always on the lookout for her. It would not be easy to miss her regardless, as today's choice of fur boots, gold jewelry, and colorful makeup attracted plenty of attention from the male and female students alike, either out of sex appeal or jealousy.

"See, that's Rachel Germain over there," whispered Dash into Tara's ear. "I don't get her. See, she's British, or something fancy like that shit. I can't tell. Anyway, she thinks that she's better than everyone else here cause she dresses fancy and has big tits. But really, she's just an attention whore who doesn't care about anyone. Okay, a regular whore, too. And that poor kid she drags along? He's only there because he wants to fuck her. But she, of course, won't deliver the goods. So he just follows her like a stalker until-"

"OKAY! I'VE HAD ENOUGH!" Tara shouted before pushing herself free from Dash's grip. Dash seemed genuinely surprised by Tara's outburst, and stopped talking at once. "You wanna know something Dash? I don't really care what you think of all of these people. You are nuts! You may insult everyone else, but we really need these people around us! You know why? Because they prevent people like you from ruling the world and driving us all crazy!" Tara was breathing heavy, fed up with everything she was hearing. But all Dash did was snicker.

"This completely reinforces everything I just said," said Dash with a smile on her face. "You refuse to see anything differently, Tara. I'll give you some advice for the future. Why don't you take that pole that's shoved so far up your ass, and break your own fucking hymen with it. Maybe then, you'll stop being such an immortal bitch and learn to live a little." Dash punctuated her sentence by flipping two middle fingers into the air and then walking away from the buildings, towards the fields. Tara was sick and tired of all of these interruptions. She realized she was going to be late for class, and grumbled in disappointment. She angrily stomped her way into the Imago building, and made her way towards her first class.

The Imago building was focused primarily on sciences and mathematics, and it was Tara's personal favorite. As she made her way towards her advanced chemical engineering class, she took notice of the time. Even moving at her quickest pace, she would still be late. Tara groaned.

_Damn it, Dash,_ she thought,_ you just had to interfere with my studies. Again. It seems like all you want to do is make my life miserable._

Still deep in thought, she progressed ever rapidly towards her class, not allowing anything to distract her. Tara was snapped out of her trance by a stern, female voice.

"There you are, Tara. It's not like you to be late," came the voice of her professor, Ms Sherry. She was standing outside of the classroom, a look of confusion on her face.

"I'm really sorry, Ms. Sherry," said Tara, bowing her head in disappointment.

"Come on, now," said Ms. Sherry, a hint of shame in her voice. She knew Tara was better than this, and perhaps she should be kinder to the brightest mind in her class. "Open your textbook to chapter 5, and read the next 50 pages, alright? It shouldn't take you long to catch up to the other students.'

"Of course, ma'am," replied Tara, relief washing over her, calming her mind. She would easily catch up to everyone else in the class. Despite being relatively bright, the other students didn't compare to Tara when it came to pure intelligence. She walked calmly into the room, took a seat, and immediately began her studies. No one really seemed to notice her enter, too busy being invested in the reading. Or at least, that was what they appeared to be doing. Ms. Sherry walked to her desk and began reading sappy love novel she bought off of the internet.

Tara tried to focus on her reading, but her mind found other things to focus on. Her thoughts wandered to her friends, to her conversation with Dash, to her family back home. Her ears heard conversations all around her, even when she wasn't trying to listen. She heard two girls whispering behind her, slightly to the left. Apparently, they used the reading to find time for gossip and texting.

"So, the prick thinks he can sext that slut Alisha and I won't find out about it? Man, I'm gonna spread that shit all over the web…" whispered one girl to the other, her voice holding enough disdain to carry her whispers throughout the room.

"Hope he fuckin' hangs himself, "added the other girl, checking her cell phone hidden in the pages of her textbook. Tara thought she must be have gotten some sort of illness, causing her mind to lose focus and wander around the room. She heard the gentle snoring of one student to her right, and from a distance, she heard a thumping sound. From what she could gather, a student had been listing to music on his headphones, and was tapping to the beat of the song.

_Thump_

She once again tried to focus on the knowledge in front of her. She took a deep breath, and resumed reading at the top of the page.

_Thump Thump_

Tara's focus began to weaver again, as she heard more noises coming from within the classroom and from outside. A bird chirped happily by the window, not yet taking a migration to the south. More gossip was picked up by Tara's ears. She was never a fan of gossip. She always disliked the idea of talking about someone when they were not around to hear it. She thought that once she left high school, she would be with intelligent people, who understood such childish things were to be left in the past. But as she experienced, it seemed that she had been mistaken.

_Thump Thump Thump_

More people had started to take notice of the thumping, looking around the room for the suspect.

"Shut up, faggot," one girl yelled from the corner of the room, annoyed with the ever increasing sound of thumping in room that was supposed to be quiet.

_Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump _

"Hey, I take great offense to that," another kid joked from the opposite side of the room, earning small chuckles from several of the students. Ms. Sherry glanced up from her book, glaring hard at the students. The chuckles died down, as almost every student returned to reading. Tara was finally glad to gain some peace and quiet.

_Good,_ thought Tara, her mind once again refocusing on reading. _Now I can finally figure learn about how Robert Langer discovered his tissue-_

_Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang_

As the thumping grew louder, it mutated into a persistent banging, echoing off the walls of the room. Ms. Sherry stood up in anger.

"Everyone, stay quiet!" she shouted, dropping her novel onto her desk, her bookmark falling out of place and landing beside the novel. All students looked up at her, some with expressions of embarrassment, other with slight fear.

_Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang_

The increasing volume helped Tara notice something. As she allowed her mind to fully unwind and take in her environment. And she noticed one very distinct thing about the banging, which helped to calm her mind.

"Um, Ms. Sherry," Tara nervously commented. "That noise is coming from outside." Everyone stopped and listened to the ever increasing banging, ring its way throughout the room.

_Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang_

Sure enough, the source of the banging was outside, in the halls of the Imago building. Ms. Sherry took a deep breath, and made her way towards the door.

"Probably someone constructing something for advanced engineering," she explained. "I'll see if they can move somewhere else." Ms. Sherry took another deep breath, and put on her best smile for the other college students. She walked out of the door, and calmly shut the door behind her. As if a signal had just been made, the students burst into talks with one another, their chatter filling Tara's ears.

"Man, Stacy is a freakin 10, man! You gotta nail her…"

"She is such a slut…"

"Yeah, I fucked a professor; what's the big deal…"

The noise was irritating to Tara. She had no interest in hearing the other students' personal lives in such… detail. She tried to block out the talking the best she could, and she silently prayed that Ms. Sherry would walk through the door sooner rather than later.

_Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang_

The banging had not ceased, which told Tara that she would have to listen to the obsessive babble of teenagers for longer. The banging also seemed to be getting louder. Tara rubbed her temples. At times like these she wished she was back at home. Her parents would be with her, and they could talk for hours in a calm and peaceful manner.

_BangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBang_

Some of the students took notice of the more frequent pacing of the infernal banging. The students quieted down, while the banging grew ever louder. And was it just Tara's imagination, or was the banging getting closer?

_BangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBangBang_

By now the noise was growing near deafening, causing some students to cover their ears. Confusion and curiosity rose in the conversation.

"Jesus, what the hell is that?"

"Maybe the commies have come for us…"

"Where the fuck is Ms. Sherry?"

Although Tara wouldn't like to admit it, she felt a sense of dread cast over her. She was questioning things herself. Where was Ms. Sherry? Surely she should have talked to the noise makers by now. Why hasn't she come back yet? She tried to remain rational and calm. It was just a loud noise, nothing more. Ms. Sherry would be back in any given moment. And then she could study all she wanted in a nice, peaceful environment. Tara's ears perked up when, all of a sudden, the banging stopped.

The door opened up slowly, and Tara, looking down at her textbook, heard the distinctive sound of someone walking through the door. Tara had a sigh of relief, thankful that a sense of order would be restored to the class. Then she looked up, and instantly froze like a dear in headlights.

Ms. Sherry wasn't standing at the doorway. Instead, two muscular men were guarding the door. They weren't wearing any fancy uniforms like the faculty, rather simple street clothes. The men had masks covering their faces, leaving their eyes uncovered. And they were both holding assault rifles.

The room was dead still. No one moved, no one said anything. They just stared at the men in the doorway. The men took a long look around the room, examining everything with watchful eyes. They stopped, and briefly glanced at each other, considering what to do next. Then, they looked back at the room.

Then, they opened fire.

Everything seemed to slow down around Tara. She saw people around her get shot, their bodies crumpling, falling over beneath their seats. Bullets whizzed by her head, narrowly missing her. Despite the rapid gunfire, she heard no noise, just empty silence. She saw people screaming around her, people crying and begging for their lives. Everything held a surreal quality to it, as if she was stuck in some sort of nightmare.

It all made sense to her. She was just dreaming. That's how everything was happening. She was going to wake up in her bed, at a reasonable hour, and go to class, and live her normal life once again. She closed her eyes, expecting to wake up from this terrible dream. Instead, a bullet grazed her shoulder waking her from her dazed state. Her brain kicked into survival mode, as she clutched her shoulder, and she fell beneath her seat. The noise finally rushed to her, and she was blasted with deafening noise.

_BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG_

Blood poured from her wound as pain rushed through Tara's body. Her vision blurred, as tears filled her eyes. It was the most intense feeling she had ever known. She rolled in agony on the floor, only catching brief glimpses of what was going on around her. Suddenly, she felt someone grab her and shake her around. She froze in fear, before she realized she was being shaken by a student.

"TARA, WE GOTTA MOVE!"

The student was named Blake, as Tara believed. She had never really spoken to him, but she had caught glimpses of him looking at her from across the room.

"Get up! NOW!" She managed to look around the room. The two men were standing over a crying girl, clutching the body of her dead friend. They were reloading their rifles, with their backs turned away from the rest of the class. It provided a very brief opportunity, but even in Tara's injured state of mind, she knew it might be her only chance to survive. Blake helped her to her feet as fast as he could without injuring her. The two men laughed at the crying student, who just minutes before had been complaining about her ex. They talked amongst themselves as one of them effortlessly shot her in the head, splattering blood over the walls. Blake and Tara ran to the door as fast as they could, and ran out of the classroom, down the halls.

"HEY! COME BACK HERE!"

Tara heard the cries of the men behind them, realizing that their rapid movement undoubtedly attracted their attention. She heard the sound of Blake's footsteps right behind hers, as she quickened her pace, ignoring the pain running through her arm. As she passed the corpse of Ms. Sherry and turned a corner, she heard the sound of gunfire coming from the other hall. This put her into frenzy, as she sprinted as fast as her legs could carry her, taking every turn, every route possible, in an attempt to escape her pursuers. She was in such a panicked state, she didn't realize that Blake was no longer right behind her, and that she was practically calling out her position with her loud footsteps. She rounded each corner with no sense of caution, and paid little attention to her surroundings. The sounds of gunfire echoed all around her, from every direction, and she became lost and confused as to who she was near. She turned her head and glimpsed behind her as she rounded her next corner, causing her to immediately collide with someone. Tara let out a shriek, believing that she had collided with one of the armed gunmen. But instead, she had run into someone who, on any other occasion, she would be dreading to see.

"Sullivan? Holy fuck, you're alive!" Dash exclaimed almost gleefully, as she helped herself to her feet. Despite the relief washing over her, Tara could see that Dash was terrified by the way her eyes darted around, looking for anyone coming their way. She uncharacteristically grabbed Tara's left arm to help her to her feet, but in the process, caused strain to be put on Tara's shoulder, causing Tara to yelp in pain. Dash looked at Tara's wounded shoulder in surprise.

"Damn, you got shot? I bet that hurts like a motherfucker…" Dash said as she grabbed Tara's other arm and helped her to her feet.

"Dash, what happened to you," said Tara, who was trying to get some understanding out of the situation.

"Shit, I don't know! We're in a fucking _massacre_! I'm freaking the fuck out! And how'd you get shot?! That seems like the bigger fucking event here," Dash said very quickly, too panicked to slow her erratic speech. Dash was still looking around very nervously, scanning for any other signs of life.

"One thing at a time, Dash," said Tara, clutching her shoulder as she tried her best to ignore the pain. "Tell me everything that you've seen.'

"Well," started Dash, leaning against the nearby wall. "I showed up at class fifteen minutes late, cause I didn't really give a fuck. When I arrived at the door, I saw three tough guys standing in the middle of the room, holding big guns while everyone was hiding under the desk. They kept asking people where they could find balls, or some shit like that."

"Balls?"

"Yeah, that's what they were fucking saying. I don't know why. Anyway, one of the guys saw me and pointed his gun at me," Dash continued, wiping sweat from her brow. "Suddenly, Chip pops up from out of fuckin' nowhere and tackles the guy. So, I bolted from there as fast as I could. I think they shot him. Who the fuck knows…" finished Dash. Tara was studying Dash's story, and if her memory was correct (which it always was), then they had a very big problem on their hands.

"Dash, you said you were fifteen minutes late to class, right," said Tara, the fear growing in her voice.

"Yeah," said Dash, unsure of where Tara was heading with this.

"Well, that's about the same time my room was attacked. Dash, I think there are a lot more guys in this school than we thought," explained Tara, feeling ever more paranoid with the thought of multiple people in the building hunting her down.

"Oh shit," said Dash, trying to hide the fear in her voice. "Wait Tara, how did you get away from those bastards?"

"Blake helped me out. He managed to sneak me out of the room. But I lost track of him as I was escaping…" said Tara.

"Wait…" said Dash, curious. "Blake Jones? Scraggily looking? Meth addict? That guy?"

"Well, yeah…"

Dash muttered something to herself that Tara couldn't quite make out, but it was clear that it was caused by disappointment. "Damn, I think I ran past his body a few minutes ago. Poor fucking ki-"

_Click_

Tara and Dash froze in place, fear running through them. They both slowly turned their heads to see the source, and what they saw terrified them. One of the armed men was standing before them, his gun trained on the two of them. His face was mostly covered, but Tara could notice that he looked younger than the men who had assaulted her room prior.

"Get against the wall," he said, never taking his eyes off of them. "NOW!" The girls responded immediately, pressing their backs against the nearby wall, making sure not to anger the man. He examined both of them closely.

"State your fucking names," he said. The tone in his voice made it clear that he would not hesitate to shoot them.

"T-Tara Sullivan"

"Rebecca Dawson, man. Don't go fucking crazy now…" Dash said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. The man didn't seem to be affected, instead taking out his cell phone and taking pictures of the two girls. He kept his eyes on Tara and Dash, just in case one of them attempted to attack. But they were exhibiting such fear that the thoughts had never crossed their minds. After waiting for sixty extremely tense seconds, a beeping noise came from the man's cell phone. He carefully looked at his newly received text message, and looked back at the girls.

"Sorry ladies," he said, readying his gun. "Looks like you're expendable." Tara felt her life flash before her eyes as the man put his finger on the trigger. Then, he pulled the trigger.

_SNAP_

In a flash, two hands reached around from behind the man, and broke his neck in one fluid motion. The man's deceased form crumpled to the ground, as Tara looked at their savior, as she adjusted the Stetson atop her head.

"Tori!" Tara yelled, hugging her friend as tightly as she could. The sheer joy had completely overwhelmed her, which didn't allow her to question why her friend had showed up when she did.

"I'm glad to see that y'all are alright and alive," said Tori, breaking the hug from Tara, and reaching down to the body before her. She began to remove the ammo clips from the belt, his cell phone, and any other item she found in his possession. Tara was very confused. Dash was simply in shock.

"You… you just fucking _killed_ that guy!" Dash shouted, unable to contain herself. "And now you're looting his corpse? What the fuck is going on here?!"

Tara then noticed how dead and empty Tori seemed to be. As if all other parts of her brain had shut off, and she had focused all of her energy into the situation before her. Tori picked up the assault rifle, trying to balance its weight between her hands. After judging it for a few seconds, she tossed it to the ground, and pulled a pistol out of her back pocket. Tara was now the one in shock.

"Tori… what are you-"

"Look Tara," Tori interrupted sternly, her face expressionless. "If y'all want to survive this, I best recommend ya stick close to me. I can explain everything later." Tori proceeded to start jogging down the hallway towards the nearest exit. Tara and Dash stood still for a few moments, still trying to take everything in, before Dash took off in a full sprint after her, with Tara following close behind. Tori had studied the building greatly, and she had the knowledge that they were not far from an exit. But as she came to the first corner, she skidded to a halt. Dash and Tara slowed down as Tori pressed herself to the wall.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Dash eager to escape. Tori shushed her, and instructed them both to listen. Multiple sets of footsteps were rapidly approaching towards the hall. Tori readied her weapon as Tara and Dash crouched down against the wall, ready for whatever came through. Tori peered around the corner, trying to glimpse what was coming towards them. Suddenly, a bright pink flash zoomed around the corner, passing by the girls without ever noticing them.

"Ha Ha!" said the flash. "Catch me if you can, suckers!" The pink-wearing girl continued to sprint down the hallway, as three armed thugs came around the corner. The first two passed by the girls without any interference, but Tori had prepared for the third. As he came around the bend, Tori grabbed onto his rifle, and using his forward momentum, threw him into the nearby custodian's closet, stealing his gun in the process. As his comrades turned around to see the cause of the commotion, Tori effortlessly aimed the rifle, and fired two bursts into the men, taking them down. Tara stood shocked at Tori's display, while Dash focused to the girl still running away from an imaginary threat.

"Hey, Pinky!" It's me, Dash! Stop running, you crazy bitch!" Dash called out to Pinky, who was sliding to a stop at the end of the hall. Pinky turned around fast, and, recognizing Dash, put a large grin on her face.

"Hiyah, Dash!" Pinky called out happily, completely forgetting the threat that she was faced with merely seconds ago. In a few moments, she had run up to the others, hopped on Dash's back, and recounting the tale of how her morning had changed from a failing bake sale to an exciting chase scene.

"Man you won't believe the morning I had, what with the crazy guys chasing me and all, I mean like I was just sitting there like, 'man I wish I could sell these cupcakes', and suddenly these tough guys walk up and are like,' ugh, we are big and scary, fear us,' so I threw the cupcakes at 'em and I just ran and ran and ran and ran all around the campus and it was really fun and exciting and they were really fun to hang around with even if it was for just a few short minutes but it was really fun while it lasted and the best part was when I was running and-"

"SHUT UP ALREADY, YOU PSYCHO BITCH!"

Everyone turned and looked at the third goon rising up in front of the custodian's closet. He was holding his head with one hand and a handgun with the other, pure rage spread across his face. "I'm gonna fucking kill you, you loudmouth whore!" He raised his gun, when suddenly the door behind him swung open, and a blunt object struck him across the back of his head, rendering him unconscious. Everyone stopped and stared at the girl standing in the doorway. A look of terror was plastered on her face, and she held a large nature book in her hand unsteadily, as she was shaking with fear. She kept looking down at the unconscious man, which caused her to jump when Tara suddenly hugged her.

"Oh god, Fiona! Your safe!" Tara exclaimed, releasing the shivering girl from her hug. But after the initial shock wore off, Tara immediately became confused. "Wait… why are you in a janitor's closet?" Fiona began to blush, and hid her face behind her hood as she struggled to explain herself.

"W-Well, y-you see, I…um…heard some loud noise coming down the hall on my way to class, and I…um…" Fiona turned away from her friends to hide her shame. "I…hid in the closet." Dash immediately started to laugh.

"So…you didn't even see any of the killers, and you hid in the freaking closet regardless?" said Dash, barely containing her laughter. "Jesus, you're a fucking coward!"

"Hey, I'm not that brave, okay," said Fiona, trying to defend herself, despite more blood rushing to her face. "Besides, it gave me time to catch up on reading…if it wasn't so gulp dark…" Dash began to laugh even more, before Tori harshly punched her in the shoulder.

"Ow…"

"Now's not the time for this. Girls," Tori looked at Pinky, who had been cheerily bouncing up and down in place, and Fiona, who had still been looking worriedly at the unconscious man before her. "I recommend you stick with us from now on. We're almost out, ya hear." Fiona and Pinky nodded, and Tori continued to rapidly move towards the exit, keeping an eye out for any more attackers or students heading their way. Dash and Pinky ran after her, but when Tara tried to move ahead, Fiona stopped her.

"Fiona, come on, let's go…" said Tara, trying to walk towards the direction the others were headed.

"I-I'm really sorry, Tara," said Fiona, motioning to her nature book, which had now been stained with blood. "I know you worked hard for it, and I-'

"Fiona now is really _not_ the time for this," interrupted Tara, shaking Fiona's shoulders. "We can talk about this later." Tara started to run towards the others.

"But-but what if there _is_ no 'later'?" said Fiona, fear present in her voice. Tara halted in her tracks, grimaced, and turned around to face Fiona. She tried her best to sound reassuring. She placed her hand on Fiona's shoulder.

"There _will_ be a 'later'. I promise," Tara said, although in truth she doubted herself very much. But it seemed to be enough, as Fiona nodded in response. Suddenly, Fiona noticed the blood running down Tara's arm, and she became very frightened for her friend.

"Are-are y-you okay? Did someone hurt you?" said Fiona, suddenly feeling very worried. Tara quickly turned away.

"I'm fine," Tara lied, once again moving toward the others. "Come on, we gotta keep up." They both started to dash down the corridors. They had not fallen too far behind, but they were far enough away that Tara could not hear the conversation the other girls were having.

"So… who are these guys anyway?" said Pinky, oblivious to the greater situation at hand. "And why are they trying to destroy all the cupcakes?"

"They're not," sad Dash, annoyed by Pinky's ignorance. "We're in a fucking _school shooting_. A bunch of shitheads are trying to cause a fucking _massacre. _Get that through your drugged up head."

"This ain't no massacre, Dash," said Tori finally reaching the exit to the fields. "This is a damn assassination attempt."

"What the hell are you talking about?" questioned Dash.

"Never mind, I'll explain it if we survive this nightmare," said Tori, opening the door, and allowing Dash and Pinky to step through. Tara and Fiona followed close behind, and soon, all five girls were out in the open fields of the campus. They all stuck close to the building, looking out for anyone crossing by. They could see no one, but they still felt uneasy.

"Okay y'all," said Tori, looking around once more. "I parked my car over on the other side of the field. Now I don't see nobody around, so I think our best choice of action is to make a run for it, and hope for the best."

"That's your plan of action," said Dash. "That could get us all killed!"

"Well, if you don't think you can run fast enough to get out of here, then suuuure, it's a problem," taunted Tori. Dash snarled at her, and then without warning, followed her namesake and dashed across the field, with everyone else following behind her.

"Tori, why don't we just go to my place?" Tara said to Tori as they struggled to keep up with Dash.

"Trust me, Tara. We need to get as far away from here as possible. It's the only way you're gonna survive," responded Tori, looking around her as she ran and quickened her pace. They didn't appear to be attracting any attention. Eventually, they managed to reach the end of the fields, and Tori turned sharply to the left, heading towards a car parked on the side of the road, away from the central parking lot. The rest of the girls followed close behind, excluding Dash, who, since running ahead of everyone, accidently turned towards the parking lot. Despite this, she realized her mistake, and quickly caught up to everyone else. As Tori approached her car, she noticed something wasn't quite right. Most notable was that she spotted two figures standing around her vehicle. As they drew closer, Tori saw that they were two students, one male and one female. They were nervously looking around for attackers. And it looked like they were trying, unsuccessfully, to break into the car.

"Hurry up, Spyke!" Rachel Germain shouted at her friend, who was trying to use a stick to pry open the window.

"I'm trying, alright!" he shouted back, getting frustrated and throwing the stick to the ground. "We wouldn't have to hijack this thing if you would just drive like a normal person!"

"I told you I can't drive on your backwards-ass roads!" shouted Rachel in defense, her accent becoming more prominent with her anger. "No sensible person can drive on the _right _side of the damn road!"

"Hey! What do y'all think your doin'?" Tori shouted at the pair, who jumped at the sound of someone approaching them.

"Oh…"said Rachel, unsure of what to say as the four girls caught up to Tori. "Is this… your car?"

"Yeah, it is! What, were ya gonna try and steal it?" said Tori accusingly.

"Hey, it's not fault that Miss U.K. over here can't drive," said Spyke backing away from the car. "Besides, this an emergency! We gotta get out of here."

"Um, guys," said Fiona, trying to gain the others' attention.

"You tried to steal my car!"

"We are trying to survive!"

"Tori, I think we need to go," said Fiona, trying to stop the growing argument.

"Get out of the way," screamed Tori.

"No," screamed Rachel. "We need to get out of here too."

_BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBA NGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG_

Bullets whizzed by them, narrowly missing their targets. In a panic, the girls dove for the only cover close enough to them: Tori's car. Using the car for cover, Tori pulled out her gun and prepared to return fire. Fiona, Tara and Rachel covered their ears from the noise of gunfire. Spyke slowly peered his head around the edge of the car.

"There are four guys!" he shouted to Tori over the sound of gunfire. He continued to look around the corner, giving Tori details to their locations. Tori quickly leaned around the corner and fired five quick shots, none of which hit their targets.

"Damn," said Tori, reloading her pistol. "They're too far away! I can't hit them."

"Well, keep trying," shouted Spyke. "Otherwise, we'll be-" Spyke was cut off as a stray bullet connected with his temple, exiting through the other side of his skull, taking some of his brains with. Some of the girls screamed. Rachel covered her mouth and turned away, unable to handle the sight. She wanted to scream, but the only thing she felt was a feeling of pure fear, worse than anything she had ever felt, running through her veins. Tori was trying to figure out a way to get in range of the men. Pinky, however, was tired of hiding.

"Oh, for goodness sakes. GIMME THAT!" Before Tori knew what was happening, Pinky had swiped the gun from her hands, and had now stood up over the car, exposing herself completely.

"Wait, Pinky, what are you," Tori tried to stop her, but instead Pinky fired four rounds, and all of a sudden, the gunfire stopped. Fiona and Tara uncovered their ears, and Tori looked over the car. She spotted four bodies lying on the ground some one hundred feet away from them, blood flowing from their corpses. Tori looked at Pinky with amazement.

"How did you do that?" asked Tori, rising to her feet.

"Oh that, that was nothing," Pinky said cheerily, despite the murders she just commited. "See my father was a cop and he had this _huge_ gun collection and sometimes he let me use them, which was really really fun, and so over the years I've just gotten really good, I suppose, although I don't really see what the big deal is about it, it just always kinda felt natural to me, you know what I mean." Tori tried her best to pick out the details from Pinky's nonsensical babble. She helped the other girls to her feet, opened the car door, and slid into the driver's seat. Tara walked around the side of the car, doing her best to avoid looking at Spyke's body, and slipped into the passenger's chair. The other girls squished themselves into the back of the car, which barely held them. Rachel stayed on the ground, unable to move from the shock of seeing her friend die before her. Tori looked down to Rachel.

"You want to come along, dear?" Tori asked kindly. Rachel had very few options. She didn't know where she could go, and she knew that if she stayed, more people could come after her. She slowly stood up, and with some effort, forced her way into the back of the car, which had now become very cramped and uncomfortable. Tori started up the car, and drove away from the college, gunshots still ringing throughout it halls.

They drove for what seemed to be hours. No one spoke; no one asked where they were headed. Most of them were just thinking over the events of the past few hours. None of them appeared to be thinking about it. Pinky sat in the corner, smiling away as if it were Christmas Eve; Fiona sat hunched over holding her blood-stained nature book; Dash wriggled around uncomfortably, trying to get more room; Rachel stared out the window, an empty look in her eye. Meanwhile, Tara stared at Tori, who was busy focusing on the road. Tara had many questions buzzing around her head. Why were they attacked by so many people? How had Tori gotten a handgun? Where were they being taken? Tara thought about these questions for most of the drive, until she noticed they were headed towards a city. Tara read the exit signs, and discovered that they were headed towards Philadelphia.

"Philadelphia?" asked Tara to Tori, who was driving through the streets of the city. "Why are we here? We're about two hours away from Ymerton."

"You'll see," assured Tori, driving past many office buildings as they headed towards their destination. As they traveled further, Tara noticed that the quality of the buildings decreased, and the streets were becoming less and less populated, something which Dash took no time in pointing out.

"Jeez, are you trying to take us to the shittiest part of the city?" asked Dash, noticing that the car was starting to get glared at by the populace. "You might want to keep that gun handy."

Tori continued to drive for a few more blocks until she saw her destination before her. She pulled to the side of the road, and parked in one of the may empty spots alongside the street. She opened the door and stepped out, beckoning everyone else to do the same. As the girls in the back attempted to untangle themselves, Tara looked at the store they had pulled up to. It appeared to be a small restaurant, with a simple banner above the store.

_Wu Song's Chinese Restaurant_

It seemed peculiar to Tara. Tori said that they were going to a safe location. But why here? She supposed that it would be a place no one would expect them to be, but it just seemed bizarre.

"So, why have you taken us all the way across the city to this place, Miss…"stopped Rachel, forgetting the name of her southern acquaintance.

"You'll see," once again spoke Tori, not bothering to tell Rachel her identity.

_She won't need to know it soon,_ thought Tori, a smirk now on her face. Tori entered the establishment, and motioned for the others to follow her. The door rang when Tori stepped inside, and she walked up to an elderly Chinese man sitting behind the counter.

"Howdy, Mr. Chen," Tori greeted happily, and the man kindly nodded in response. After she heard the sound of the five girls enter the restaurant and close the door behind them, Tori turned to face the girls, her face showing slight regret. "I'm really sorry about this, ladies."

Suddenly, everything went dark. Tara had no idea what was happening. She heard multiple people moving all around her, her friends crying out in fear, and she felt people grabbing on to her. She felt her feet leave the ground, and something was placed over her head, as she could now tell. She heard arguments from the others, protesting the movement. But all she could see was black. Then suddenly, the light returned.

When Tara's eyes had finally adjusted to the light, she saw that she was sitting at a large, gray, rectangular desk. Around her were gray walls, with one wall containing a large mirror. Then she noticed that sitting next to her were Pinky, Fiona, Dash, and Rachel. She looked around for Tori, but couldn't find her anywhere.

"Okay, what the holy _fuck_ is going on here?" asked Dash, looking around the room for an exit. All she found was a large gray door, which appeared to be locked from the outside.

"I have no idea," responded Rachel. "But it is in the need of some serious redecorating.

"Maybe we're in some kind of freaky alternate dimension, where the entire world is just one small gray box!" exclaimed Pinky, letting her active imagination run wild.

"I'm afraid the truth is far less exciting," suddenly came a deep voice from the doorway. A large man was standing under the door, holding multiple files under his arm. He was wearing a military uniform, and had a sincere smile on his face. He calmly walked over and sat at the table, light shimmering off of his silver hair. "Sorry about that little 'ambush' back in the restaurant. We gotta make sure there are no gaps in security." He smiled at each of the girls. They seemed to relax a little more. "My name is General Anthony Wilson, United States Government."

He held out his hand for any of the girls to shake it. But only Tara grabbed onto his hand.

"Hello, sir," she greeted him with a firm handshake. "Tara Sullivan. My brother is in the marines," she added.

"Glad to hear it, ma'am," he responded cheerfully.

"Hold up," said Dash, still very much confused. "What are we doing here? Where is here? And where the fuck is Tori at?"

"If y'all are looking for Tori, ya won't find her," came a voice from the doorway. Tara looked up and saw Tori casually leaning against the doorway, adjusting her hat.

"Tori, there you are!" said Tara, glad to see her friend.

"Not exactly," said the General, leaning back in his chair.

"What are you talking about?" said Rachel, very confused. "You're standing right there."

"Yes," said Tori. "But Tori _isn't_. Victoria Black doesn't exist."

"What do you mean?" asked Fiona, who had mostly remained out of the conversation until this point.

"Ladies," said the General, rising and standing next to the girl in the doorway . "I'd like to fully introduce to introduce you to one of our top undercover agents, Miss Anna-Jean Balle."

Anna-Jean tipped her hat to the girls at the table, who all stared at her with their mouths hanging open.

"Whoa! Whoa! Hold up there cowgirl! I'm really fucking confused here. You're a spy?!" said Dash who was trying to understand everything thrown at her. "Just what else did you lie to us about? Is that your real age? Your real face? Your real tits? I… I just can't… UGH!" Dash slammed her head down on the table, feeling extremely confused. "Motherfucker…"

Anna-Jean sat at the table and began to explain everything. "Let me try to explain. Look, most of the stuff I told you was at least partially true. I haven't been wearing any disguises or nothing, and I really am just eighteen. But, I've been training as a government agent since I was five." Anna-Jean waited for any questions, but none came. So, she simply continued on.

"I've been working undercover assignments my whole life. My most recent one was what brought me here. The government picked up Intel that suggested a potential terrorist threat had infiltrated Ymerton College. So I was given a two part assignment. One: Infiltrate the school as a college student to investigate the truth of a possible terrorist threat."

"Did you find anything?" asked Tara, intrigued. Anna-Jean shook her head.

"Not really," she replied truthfully. "Anyway, I had the second part of my assignment: Find and note possible recruits for the P.O.N.Y. Initiative."

"P.O.N.Y?" asked Fiona.

"It stands for Police Operative and Nonpareil Youths," said General Wilson. "It's part of a hypothesis that younger minds could be more adept at handling threats. Miss Balle here is living proof of that."

"I was supposed to find if any students had the potential to complete tasks necessary to the safety of the country," added Anna-Jean, before she hung her head in shame. "But I must have alerted someone to my activities. So they sent trained soldiers to come kill me."

"Wait," said Dash. "Are you trying to tell us that the entire raid today happened because some guys were trying to kill _you_?" Anna-Jean nodded.

"Luckily, they weren't able to succeed," she said proudly. "And even better, y'all survived as well. If today taught us anything, it's that the threat of terrorism is very real. Which makes the P.O.N.Y Initiative even that more crucial."

"Which brings us to why you're here," said Wilson, approaching the table. All of the girls' eyes were fixed on him. "We want you to join the P.O.N.Y.'s."

The news came as relatively shocking. None of them had combat experience, and they all panicked during the shooting. None of them saw how any rational person would ever choose to perform such an operation. That in itself was the precise reason why a voice suddenly spoke up.

"I'm in," said Dash, who was immediately met with protest from her peers.

"Are you crazy?"

"It's suicide."

"Think about this, will you?"

"Seriously, hear me out," said Dash, who had now risen from the table and started walking around the room. "How could you not do it? Going around the country, kicking ass and taking names. It sounds like it's the best thing that could ever happen to us. I mean, Pinky, you get a chance to do that crazy gun shit."

Pinky hadn't really considered it, but she supposed it did give her a chance to improve her gunmanship.

"And Rachel, you can avenge Spyke's death by kicking his killers' teeth in." Rachel thought about it. Avenging Spyke's death seemed like a good reason to gain revenge.

"Fiona, you got to do it. After all, you won't let the whole _world _down now, would you?" continued Dash, gaining more confidence in her decision.

"The-the whole world?" Fiona gulped, suddenly feeling an insurmountable amount of pressure.

"So how about it, girls? You ready to kick some ass?" said Dash proudly.

"Hell Yeah!" screamed Pinky, high fiving Dash as hard as she could.

"Alright, I'll do it. For Spyke's sake," said Rachel. Fiona nervously looked around, and slowly nod her head to Dash, signaling that she was going to join. Everyone turned to look at Tara, who was the only one out of all of them to not join yet. Tara thought about hard. All of her friends were doing it. And it was to save the world, which made it extremely important. Tara finally reached a conclusion, and spoke her answer loud and clear.

"No."

Anna-Jean's face dimmed, as Tara continued on. "No way. You people are all insane. You're just going to give up your lives and go fight bad guys with zero experience. You'll get slaughtered. Besides, I have a life to live. I have my future planned out already. And I am not sacrificing it to go play superhero."

Anna-Jean sighed, and stood up from the table.

"Tara, could I speak with you for a moment?" Anna-Jean reached out her arm, and Tara grabbed hold of it.

"Sure," she replied, following Anna-Jean out of the room. It was only then that she noticed that her arm had been bandaged, the bleeding stopped and the blood removed. It was probably repaired in the darkness by some medical personnel. Anna-Jean began to whisper to Tara.

"Look girl, I didn't really want to say anything in front of the others, but you _need_ to join us."

"I already told you, I'm not risking my life when I have a life to go back to," whispered Tara, trying to very strongly get her point across. Anna-Jean once again sighed.

"Tara, ya don't understand. Y'all are already in danger," AJ said softly.

"What do you mean?" Tara asked, curious.

"Why do you think the cops never showed up to the college?" AJ asked. Tara pasued, never having truly thought about it before.

"Um…" Tara could not think of an explanation.

"It's cause the footage was jacked. The attackers have seen us together, they know we are associated," Anna-Jean forcefully told Tara. "Now you're a target, and your family's a target."

Tara tried to process this information, and when she did, it truly frightened her.

"Y-You mean that-"

"Yeah," interrupted Anna-Jean. "You're in grave danger whether you like it or not. The only thing that matters is what you decide to do about it."

Tara realized the gravity of the situation. It was too late for her. She would be hunted down like an animal until they found her. But if she joined the others, at least she might have a chance to stop it. Tara sighed, and looked at Anna-Jean.

"Can you promise me something?" started Tara. "Can you promise me that you'll keep me safe through thick and thin, no matter what happens?" Both Tara and Anna-Jean knew it was a promise that could not be made. But Tara thought that maybe if she promised, by some magical reasoning, everything would turn out okay. Anna-Jean stayed silent for a long while, before holding her hand out to Tara.

"I promise that nothing bad will happen to you, Tara. So help me God."

"Well then, Miss Balle," said Tara, shaking Anna-Jean's hand. "It looks like you've got yourself a new recruit."

"Please, call me AJ," AJ said with a kind smile.

"Okay then AJ," said Tara, releasing her grip. "When do we start?"

* * *

All that was present in the dark room was a round table. It wasn't a fancy table, made of any rare materials. Just simple lumber, from an unknown tree from an unknown place. But it was a very important table. For this was where the High Council met. They never saw each other's faces, opting to wear masks or face paint, for secrecy was of the highest importance. And today, the High Council met with great disappointment. For on this day, a school shooting took the lives of one hundred and thirty-four college students.

Instead of one hundred and thirty-five.

And the council went into great argument over this, because out of the five members, two female and three male, no one knew who to blame.

"Your plan was a failure, Sombra," spoke one of the female members. "All you had to do was kill _one _teenage girl, for Christ sake's."

"The King holds no fault," said Sombra. "You're the assassin, Moon! You should have taken her out."

"But _you _funded the soldiers," Moon fought back with a sneer. "Besides, the entire plan was idiotic. Back in Germany, we killed our targets by stealth. We should have sent Chrysalis in there. She could kill her quick, but she is just a lazy bitch."

"Don't drag me into this, Moon!" shouted the other woman, Chrysalis. "Don't try to blame this on me. You are incompetent and-"

"ENOUGH!" screamed the highest member of the council, who had grown tired of the bickering amongst his underlings. "This was a plan invested by all of us! So we all hold the blame!"

Silence grew around the table.

"Now," screamed the councilman. "We have a bigger problem to attend to. Not only has the agent escaped, but she left with allies. This could grow detrimental to our plans.'

"Please," said Sombra, fixing the large crown he wore atop his head. "They're just little kids. They stand no chance to the King." He puffed on his cigar, enjoying his stature.

"Don't grow overconfident, Sombra," replied the head of the council. "I know a problem when I see one."

"So what do you want to do about it?" said Moon.

"Why not let me take care of 'em," said a voice at the end of the table. The attentions of the others were drawn to the newest member of the High Council. He had not been part of the argument, opting instead to just twirl his colt revolver around his finger. "Let me prove myself, boss. I'll wipe those motherfuckers off the face of the Earth."

It seemed like a fair deal; give the rookie a chance to prove his worth to the cause. It was a chance that the High Council could not pass up.

"Okay, Discord," said the highest councilor. "Don't disappoint us.'

Discord hopped to his feet, and immediately bowed to his peers.

"Don't worry, sir," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "I'll take care of these meddling kids for you. Just like in the old cartoons."

"Just how do you intend to do that?" asked Sombra.

"Please Sombra, we're terrorists," Discord said, quickly pulling out his revolver and firing six shots randomly at the wall. Then he started to laugh, sheer joy rushing through him. He turned back to Sombra with a menacing grin.

"I'm going to fucking terrorize."

**End of Chapter 1**


	2. Chapter 2: The First Steps

**Note: For several reasons. including length, document size, and reading experience, it has been decided upon that chapters of P.O.N.Y: Police Operatives and Nonpareil Youths will now be uploaded in several parts. It is hoped that these parts may be released more frequently, and to a more fitting style to the narrative. We at GodSaveTheKings apologize for any inconvenience this may cause. **

******Note: If anything in the following story is worth noting, positive or negative, good or bad, leave a comment about via review. If every person who read this sentence left a review, the impact would be incredible. We at GodSaveTheKings greatly appreciate feedback, as it substantially helps with the writing process. So please, make your voice heard.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: The First Steps**

**Part 1 of 2: Training For A Better Tomorrow**

**October 4th, 2015**

Slumber came far more easily than anyone expected. Despite the bizarre circumstances surrounding their current predicament, including a school massacre, being recruited by a government agency, and now being forced to sleep in the tight confines of a hastily prepared bedroom, dreams and bliss filled each of the girls' minds. Although, Tara herself was quite confident that General Wilson had slipped something into the donuts that were served as a makeshift dinner. But for now, she was contempt, as her dreams consisted of her bright future, and not nightmares of the horrific incidents she had recently faced. And that seemed like it would last for a very long time.

Suddenly, alarm bells sounded in the room, startling everyone from their slumber. Tara's eyes shot open, as she groggily managed to hoist herself to her elbows.

"Rise and shine, ladies," AJ's voice called out from the doorway. "Time to start the training."

"Jesus fucking Christ, what time is it?" said Dash rubbing her eyes.

"Just past three," AJ replied.

"Three what?" asked Pinky, who seemed to be relatively happy despite waking up so early that her voice had not yet risen to its higher pitch, making Pinky sound far more mature than she actually was. She yawned. "Like, is it something cute, like three puppies, or something scary, like three vampires, or is it-"

"More like three a.m.," said AJ, crossing her arms.

"3 A.M.?" said Rachel, sounding like it was the worst news she had ever heard. "Oh no, I simply cannot wake up this early! I need beauty sleep."

"Does that include sleeping around with guys, too? Cuz that would sure explain a lot," chimed in Dash, who snickered at her own joke. Rachel growled at her.

"Well, I guess that would involve men being attracted to me, something _you _obviously have never experienced," Rachel jabbed back, priding herself on her clever response. Dash pointed angrily at her.

"Hey, don't piss me off when I wake up," snarled Dash. "I'm just as annoyed and cranky as you are. Speaking of which," Dash turned towards AJ. "Why do we have to get up so fucking early?"

"You girls are grossly underprepared for what lies ahead," said AJ. "It takes years of training to reach the experience and skill of a soldier. But we don't really have a lot a time, because we got ourselves a threat right on top of us. So we gotta speed train you."

AJ briefly walked out of the room, and when she returned, she was holding a pile of clothes, which she tossed onto a pile in the center of the room. "Change into these, and then meet me outside in a minute."

AJ walked out of the room as, one by one, the girls finally got out of their beads, and grabbed the articles of clothing. Tara picked up some clothes, and noticed something was off about the clothes she was told to wear. Unless she was mistaken, the only things to wear were white tank tops and some very small gray shorts. While they seemed like normal exercise outfits, Tara noted that it was early October, and the clothes would not provide nearly sufficient warmth for the autumn weather. Nevertheless, each of the girls found their own respective to change in. Rachel was complaining to herself in the corner.

"I can't believe they expect me to wear this bloody thing…" she muttered to herself. She believed that woman of her standards should never be forced to wear such unflattering clothes. They had not taken along any possessions with them, which left Rachel without any of her makeup, or an assortment of proper attire. In fact, none of the girls had really been prepared for this. As far as they could tell, the only clothes they would be able to wear would be whatever they were supplied with on that day. And this thought worried Rachel greatly, much more than any true threat of danger.

The girls quickly finished changing and walked out of the room. AJ was standing there, calmly waiting for them. She beckoned them to follow her down a corridor towards an unknown location. Tara had not really seen much of their new home since she had arrived. She had seen only the room she had arrived in and her sleeping quarters, which led her to wonder how big the underground base could possibly be. AJ led them further down the halls, taking occasional turns, and passing several doorways along the way. Rachel uncomfortably adjusted her clothes.

"Is there really nothing else that we could wear, AJ? It's just that these clothes aren't quite…comfortable for me," Rachel spoke. She once again squirmed around in her shirt, which appeared to be too small for her. Dash snickered to herself.

"Yeah, when you get giant-ass breast implants, you're gonna have a hard time fitting into normal shirts," Dash muttered under her breath. While Rachel was a few feet ahead of her, and didn't hear the remark, Tara heard the comment clearly.

"Hey, leave her alone, Dash," said Tara quietly, trying not to attract the attention of the others.

"Hey, Spark, why don't you mind your own fucking business for once, huh?" Dash said. Tara was puzzled.

"Spark?" Tara questioned.

"Yeah," said Dash, shrugging. "That's my new nickname for you. Came up with it last night. I'm quite proud of it."

"But, why Spark?" asked Tara.

"Simple. You remind of lightning. Really loud and annoying." said Dash simply, ignoring the glare she was receiving.

"That doesn't even make sense," said Tara, very annoyed. "Lightning itself is silent. Thunder, which I'm sure you are poorly trying to refer to, is the sound of the sound barrier breaking. You could have gone with 'Shockwave' or 'Charge', or better yet, just call me by my actual _name_." Dash simply shrugged of Tara's comments, and grinned.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna stick with Spark. Just feels right. Plus, it also sounds like something you'd name a dog, which makes perfect sense, since you like following orders so much. Woof woof, motherfucker," Dash stated. Tara felt like slapping Dash in the face. She hoped her rational side would allow her to keep calm. She promptly decided to ignore Dash, who continued to grin to herself.

"Now all I gotta do is come up with new names for everyone else. Pinky's and AJ are pretty much covered, but I need to think of something for Fiona and Rachel." Dash continued on as if Tara was still holding on to every word. Before they knew it, AJ had opened a door, and the girls were stunned at the sight before them. They were staring at an incredibly large gym area, which seemed to be stocked with more equipment in one room than Tara had ever seen at any of her private schools. In the center of the room was an entire track, which fit an entire swimming pool inside its center. Along the side of the track was enough exercise equipment to fill an entire gymnasium. A firing range was set in the corner, which Pinky nearly drooled over. A large set of weapons were laid out by the firing range. Pinky tried to run over to them, but AJ halted her in her tracks. Fiona asked the question that was settling on everyone's mind.

"How did you get all of this?" Fiona asked shyly, looking around the massive room.

"Government funding can sure do wonders, cant it?" replied AJ, who was admiring the room. She turned to face the girls, a more serious look on her face. Now, I'm going to be honest with y'all. I'm not entirely sure what level of shape each of you is in, so I'm just gonna make you run some simple drills. Ya ready." The girls nodded in response. "Good, now sprint around that track about 40 times."

Dead silence filled the room, as the girls gaped at AJ, who was looking confused, clearly unaware of the difficulty of the task.

"F-forty times?" asked Fiona in disbelief.

AJ considered her disbelief, and then added, "Better make it fifty times." The girls groaned in despair, except of Dash, who seemed to be too busy scratching leg to care.

"Hey, times a wastin'! Get to it!" yelled AJ, acting like a drill sergeant rather than a teenage girl. Begrudgingly, the girls started their lengthy run around the track. "AND SPRINT, LADIES! WE GOT TO GET YOU IN SHAPE!"

Tara had never considered herself out of shape. She had always eaten healthy, even when she was presented the opportunity to lose herself in the sweet store located on campus. She occasionally worked out at the gym, but these were infrequent, as she needed more time to read. But she always thought she could physically outperform most of her peers. Which is why she felt particularly embarrassed when after simply 7 laps, she had to stop in her tracks. She was panting heavily, resting her hands on her knees. She tried to catch her breath, but her chest refused to expand. She fell to her knees, now coughing, and tried to rest. She looked around her, and noticed that the others were not doing any better than she was. Rachel was lying on the ground, her breaths raspy, as she desperately struggled to take deep breaths. The tightness of her shirt wasn't helping either, as she felt it restricted her chest. Tara glanced behind her, and saw that Fiona was sitting on the ground, resting her head on her hands. She was gasping for air, and her body shuddered with each breath. As Tara looked around for the others, Dash zoomed past her in a full sprint.

"Come on, pussies! This is no time for fucking siesta bowl!" yelled Dash as she continued her way around the track. Tara had no idea of which lap Dash was on, but it was far more than Tara had been able to accomplish. Dash also didn't even appear to be tired at all. As Tara looked closer, she even noticed that Dash didn't appear to be sweating, either. Tara had no idea what workout routine Dash used, but whatever it was, it was clearly working. Pinky also ran passed Tara, trying to catch up to Dash, which seemed to be hopeless. Even Pinky's boundless energy was running out. She was working a hard sweat, and her pace was noticeably slowing, but she continued to run regardless.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang throughout the chamber. As AJ rolled her eyes at the girls' lackluster fitness level, she decided to give them proper motivation. She had walked to the walls near the firing range, and swiped a handgun off of the wall. She began taking potshots at Rachel's legs, which made Rachel jump up in shock.

"As I recall, I didn't tell y'all to be lyin' down!" AJ shouted, and began to shoot in Fiona's direction. Fiona immediately took the hint, and started moving down the track at a rapid pace. AJ continued to shoot at her, narrowly missing shooting her feet. Dash ran past Tara once again, this time taking the opportunity to smack Tara on the back of the head. Tara yelped and rubbed the back of her head. A gunshot rang close by her, startling her to her feet. Dash had already run far ahead of her, avoiding the shots, and Tara started to run after her.

"Come on, Tara! Ya got a long ways to go!" shouted AJ, who continued to take potshots at her friends' expense. The next two hours consisted of Tara, Fiona, and Rachel taking brief periods of rest, which were separated by long segments of jogging and being shot at. Sometime along the way, Pinky had used up the vast majority of her energy, and she had finally taken a rest, kneeling by the side of the track and coughing heavily. Fiona passed by Pinky, and slowed down from her jog, feeling concerned for Pinky's well-being. Every time Fiona had ever seen her on campus, Pinky was always merry. So, seeing Pinky in a pained state was actually quite jarring for the shy girl.

"Uh, Pinky, are you alright?" asked Fiona through her own heavy breathing. Pinky coughed some more, and then looked up at Fiona, trying her best to smile through the pain in her chest.

"Yeah, I'm cool," she managed to breathe out. "It's just (pant) I never (pant) felt tired before. (pant) It feels cra-(pant)-zy."

"You've _never_ felt tired before?" Fiona asked in disbelief.

"Nope," Pinky shrugged. "Not really, except before sleep. (pant) But I never felt tired in the middle of the day before." Fiona nearly jumped out of her skin as gunshots rang around her, and she took off down the track again.

"Keep moving, you two!" shouted AJ. Pinky groaned.

"Pleeeeeeeease!" Pinky yelled back, doubtingly. "There's no way you could hit me with that. (pant) If you're trying to scare me, you better (pant) get a higher caliber gun." AJ looked at the gun in her hand, and then back to Pinky, who was on the opposite side of the track from her.

"Just fucking move, Blondy!" came Dash, who, having easily completed her laps, was now leaning on a wall next to AJ and watching the others struggle around the track. She occasionally tried to talk to AJ, but found most of her comments didn't seem to get through to the southern blonde. AJ didn't respond to any of Dash's questions, such as what music AJ listened to, or what assignments AJ was given in the past, or what her sex life was like. AJ simply shrugged off the questions, opting to watch the ladies fight their way around the track.

At approximately 6:15 AM, Rachel's legs finally gave up on her. She collapsed to the ground, unable to move. Her head was spinning, and she was unable to see anything clearly. She was fairly certain that she was going to vomit. Her legs had gone numb, and pain rushed in and out of her chest with every breath. She thought she was going to die, as she felt herself being hoisted off the ground by an unknown person. Suddenly she was tossed in the air, and landed in the pool in the center of the track. Instinct kicked in, and she grabbed on to the side of the pool, holding herself above the cold water. She gasped for a breath, and looked up at the laughing rainbow-haired girl who had unkindly tossed her in the pool.

"Sorry," laughed Dash. "You looked like you needed some _water_. Haha…"

When Rachel had collapsed, Dash had decided to get payback for their earlier disagreement. It only seemed reasonable to her. Rachel needed to understand not to insult the most talented, athletic, charming, and just plain awesome member of their little dysfunctional team. Or at least, that was how Dash understood things.

"Fu…fuck you…" Rachel managed to mutter between her gasps. Dash chuckled.

"Right back at you, implants," said Dash walking away from the pool. Meanwhile, Pinky had just finished, and slowly worked her way over to the firing range. Fiona was lying on the ground in great pain, and Tara walked up beside her before collapsing.

"Hey, Tara," said Fiona. "Are you, you know, okay? You don't look too well…" Fiona coughed hard, expelling the excess phlegm that was building in her throat. While Tara felt like death, she could clearly see Fiona was much worse. Tara was unsure what shape Fiona kept herself in. She wasn't fat, by any means. Fiona had a naturally slim figure, which she attributed to the fact that she had practically no appetite, and she never left the confines of her room. Fiona had sometimes wished that she stayed in a more fit condition, but the boys she met never seemed to mind. They had always called her angelic, a woman of the highest beauty who must be treated with great respect. But unlike many girls in her school, romance was not a focal point of her life, causing many young hearts to be broken back in the day. Fiona was now thinking of these times, and this concerned her for a completely irrational reason.

Maybe she was dying. Maybe her life was flashing before her eyes, and she was having a heart attack right there on the spot. The rational side of her brain told her otherwise, but she couldn't listen to that part of her brain right now, for she was fairly certain that she was having a heart attack, and that was far more important.

"I'm (pant) fine," Tara said, while looking around the room. She saw Rachel staggering her way to AJ, who was now talking to some woman Tara hadn't seen before. Rachel herself was shivering as she slowly walked across the large chamber, while taking the time to wrap her arms around her chest. It served her two purposes. First of all, the chamber was air-conditioned to keep its inhabitants cool during exercise. Unfortunately, the pool was not pre-heated, and the cold air now blew across her skin, sending shivers down her sides. The warmth from her arms was miniscule, but she gladly accepted it. Her second purpose was more for semantics. She knew well enough what happened when white clothing got wet, so she kept her arms right up against her breasts, so as not to expose herself to her peers. She eventually reached AJ, who was now in deep conversation with a woman, while Dash casually lied on the floor.

"C-Can I get a t-towel… and a new shirt?" stuttered out Rachel, quickly adding on to her question.

"Sure, we'll see what we can do," said AJ, looking between the woman and Rachel. "Oh, Rachel, I'd like you to meet the Assistant Chairman to General Wilson. Mrs. Celestia, this is Rachel Germain, one of the new recruits for P.O.N.Y." Rachel looked at the tall, gorgeous woman standing before her. She wasn't wearing a military uniform, but instead a black, turtleneck sweater and jeans. She almost looked like a completely normal person, if not for her face. She was absolutely stunning, one of the most beautiful women Rachel had ever seen. Her deep blue eyes seemed to penetrate through Rachel, and her long blonde hair nearly fell past her waist. But instead of looking intimidating, her face carried an unmistakable kindness to it. She smiled and held out her hand to Rachel.

"Pleasure to meet you," Celestia said. Rachel shook her head.

"Likewise. But if you don't mind, I'll, uh, keep my hands where they are for now," said Rachel, embarrassed by her situation. Celestia nodded in understanding.

"Girls, get over here! There's someone I want y'all to meet!" AJ called out. Pinky skipped happily to AJ, her strength restored, as Tara and Fiona struggled to their feet, before beginning a slow and painful walk to the others. Someone wearing a suit walked through the door carrying a towel and a new white shirt. Rachel quickly snatched the towel, and wrapped it tightly around her body. Tara and Fiona arrived as AJ introduced Celestia to everyone.

"I'm glad to be meeting you all here today," Celestia started, her face growing more serious. "You are all incredibly brave from surviving the attack, yesterday. Unfortunately, bravery isn't going to stop a bullet traveling through your skull, or a blade going through your chest. I'm going to be taking care of you here; making sure each and every one of you is prepped and ready for the task ahead. We have a long road ahead of us. I will be watching AJ teach you the basics combat training. After that, I will keep track of your status from behind the scenes."

"Wait," said Tara. Her muscles ached with every movement, and she had yet to fully recover her breath. "You mean we're not getting a break, or anything?" Rachel had decided at this point to change her shirt, so she briefly walked to the corner and replaced her top while no one was looking.

"No time for breaks," said AJ, now walking towards the fire range. "We got to keep you girls learning. Come along now."

Celestia sat along a chair next to the wall as the girls were lead to the firing range. AJ was disappointed with the stamina of her new partners. She hoped that over the next few tests, they would show that they held great potential. But she knew that she would face trouble. For starters, AJ knew that the firing range would prove difficult for most of them. As far as she knew, Pinky was the only one who had fired a gun before. After equipping themselves with the proper gear, AJ handed them each a weapon one at a time, allowing each of them to fire off a few shots at targets suspended from the ceiling. Dash was stunned by her first shot, but suddenly grew to like the feeling of a weapon in her hands, as she shouted profanities into the wind.

"Fuck yeah, this bitch has got some fucking _kick _to it!" she shouted as she unloaded more shots into her target. The girls were amazed by the increasing bloodlust Dash was demonstrating, especially AJ, who started to become uneasy by watching Dash fire, as if she were suddenly going to lose her mind and fire upon the rest of them.

"BOOM! BLAM! TAKE THAT, COCKSUCKERS! WHOO! I LIKE THIS SHIT!"

_Click_

Dash continued to pull the trigger despite the empty ammo clip, hoping for more rounds to suddenly appear within her gun. Next, Rachel was given a gun, and attempted to fire a shot.

_BANG_

The gun snapped back in Rachel's hand, causing her to drop the gun and begin rubbing her hand soothingly.

"Shit…" she said while rubbing her wound. "That really hurts." She didn't even bother picking up the gun, walking back to the others. AJ rolled her eyes, and Dash slapped Rachel on the arm.

"Jesus Christ, _one_ fucking shot? You're pathetic…" Dash said, as AJ picked up the gun and handed it to Fiona. Fiona shook her head in response.

"Oh no," she said, trying to give the gun back to AJ. "There's no way I'm ever using one of those." Fiona's comment dumbfounded everyone. "What? I don't believe in the killing of others."

"What?" said Tara. "So, you are not going to participate in any of our assignments at all?"

"I will." Said Fiona, trying to turn away from the attention she was receiving. "I just won't kill anything."

"Fiona, honey, I don't think there's any way to avoid doing that," said AJ, rubbing her temples.

"I'm surprised _all of you _are going to try to kill people. Actual human beings. That's just crazy," said Fiona in defense. Tara had never actually thought about that. She was supposed to fight terrorists and bring them to justice. But she was not aware by what means she would have to do this. If she was going to learn how to fire a gun, that probably meant she would have to shoot people. Of course they would only be shooting the bad guys, the fact that they were still human beings made her feel incredibly nervous and uncomfortable. It didn't help that AJ had now place a gun in Tara's hand, and told her to fire at the target. Tara nervously raised her gun.

_Okay,_ Tara thought. _It's just a cardboard cutout. All you've got to do is hit it. Show the others that you belong to be here._

Tara took a deep breath and refocused her aim at the cardboard. Only now, the cardboard was gone, and had been replaced. It was an actual man standing there. Tara recognized him as one of the terrorists who attacked her class. He was staring directly at her, never breaking eye contact. She felt rage flow through her. All she wanted to do was put a bullet through this man's skull. She couldn't control this feeling. It was just filling her to the brim. She prepared to shoot at the man.

A man who probably had a wife and kids. A man who probably had his own life, who was just swept up into this without his control. A man that she would have to kill without mercy, and separate from this world, forever. She couldn't do it. She hated this man, despised this man, but she couldn't fire on him. She couldn't kill this man, or anyone for that matter. He raised his gun at her. She felt her muscles tense up. She couldn't breathe. He was still staring at her as he readied his weapon. She needed to pull the trigger, but her body wouldn't respond to her. He stared her down, now ready to strike. Tara closed her eyes.

_BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG_

"Hahahahaha! Nice shot, dipshit!" Dash called out to Tara. She opened her eyes. The man was gone, a cardboard cutout of a soldier in his place. Tara had unloaded her clip into the wall around the cardboard, completely missing the target with every shot. Dash was still laughing at her, while AJ hung her head disappointment. Suddenly, Pinky yanked the gun out of Tara's hand, reloaded it, and took aim.

"Yes," she said, taking aim at the cardboard head. "Now it's my turn. FIRE IN THE HOLE!" she shouted as she unloaded her clip rapidly into the cardboard, every shot striking the target between its eyes. Once she was finished, she merrily skipped back to the group, the members of which were staring at her as if she'd grown a second head. Next, they moved on to hand-to-hand combat, which further led AJ down her road of disappointment. She learned almost all she needed by her first test. It was actually a quite simplistic task.

"Punch me in the face," AJ had ordered. "I want to see how hard you hit." While most girls seemed shocked that AJ was giving them permission to hit her, Dash walked right up to AJ and readied her fist.

"Alright, if you really want it so badly…" Dash said as she quickly let out a right hook towards AJ's head. Suddenly, her arm was grabbed roughly, and before she knew it, AJ had planted her face down on her stomach, with her own arm being twisted behind her back at a sharp angle.

"Don't get so cocky, Dawson." AJ said, releasing her tight grip. Dash stood up, holding her arm and rotating it around her shoulder. AJ heard her mutter some profanities under her breath, as she moved down the line of recruits and tested their abilities. Tara attempted a simple jab, but was easily blocked, and AJ was able to shove Tara to the ground. Rachel attempted to kick AJ in the head, which showed AJ an excellent display of flexibility, but utterly failed in the concept of a successful attack. A simple sweep to the opposite leg took Rachel down easily. Pinky attempted to tackle AJ to the ground, but her momentum was redirected and she was sent hurdling to the earth. When AJ reached Fiona, the shy girl simply shook her head.

"No," she simply said. AJ groaned.

"Come on, Fiona. Try to hit me," AJ said.

"No way. You'll just end up blocking it and hurting me," said Fiona, defensively. "Or what if I hit you by accident? I don't want to hurt you."

"Fiona, hit me. That's an order," said AJ. Fiona remained silent. AJ shut her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Look, you won't actually-"

_Smack_

Fiona quickly shot out a fist, striking AJ square in the jaw. AJ stumbled back from the hit while clutching her jaw tightly. Fiona cupped her hands over her own mouth, and with a feeling of shame and embarrassment, began immediately apologizing for her actions.

"Oh my god, I'm _so _sorry," she began, now struggling to find her own words. "I-I just… I mean I didn't want to… You just… Oh, I'm really really _really _sorry."

"Don't be," said AJ, rubbing her wound. "That was a… _nice_ shot."

After Fiona calmed down and AJ's jaw felt better, the training continued, as the group learned the basics of martial arts, infiltration techniques, disguise, behavior, strategy, and immediate battle tactics. Over the next few hours and various tests, AJ mentally noted different things about the girls. Not only did Fiona have a devastating sucker punch, but she also was able to quickly notice patterns in the behavior of people she met, something she gained from constantly studying animals. Pinky was excellent with guns, but when faced with situations requiring tight focus or close range, she had difficulty completing tasks. Rachel was highly flexible (thanks to many years of yoga therapy), and she also had an eye for detection and blending into one's environment. Her immense fashion expertise meant that she could properly dress herself to seamlessly blend in with her environment, although as AJ also noticed, she would much rather stand out then blend in with the crowd. Dash was the most physically superior, with seemingly limitless stamina and speed, but lacked patience and forethought. She would often rush ahead without thinking, her strategy mainly being fighting hard and fighting fast. Tara was the exact opposite, coming up with great long term strategies and plans, but being unable to fully act them out. Her less than special physical abilities were quite obvious to everyone, but they also knew that Tara's mental strength greatly surpassed her physical strength. Unfortunately, this left AJ with a mind that she still couldn't use to any useful extent.

After reviewing the situation, AJ knew she was stuck with half-soldiers. She ordered the girls to run more laps around the track. After many groans and complaints, she eventually told them it was to "ensure the accuracy of her tests". However, it was simply a ruse for AJ to buy herself some time for thought. While AJ was mulling over how she could put the girls' talents to good use, Rachel was talking to Tara, as they ran along the track.

"How do you put up with her?" Rachel asked while eyeing Dash from across the room. Dash had finished another lap at top speed, showing no signs of fatigue.

"What do you mean?" responded Tara. "I don't even speak to Dash."

"Yes, but she speaks to you, and I assume she is no less of a gormless twat. How do you filter her out?" Rachel asked. Meanwhile, Dash had spotted Rachel and Tara talking, and raced over to hear their conversation.

"I…can't really," Tara admitted. "You just have to try to ignore her. Don't let her get under your skin. "Dash raced ever closer to the girls, now within earshot of their talks.

"I'm trying…"Rachel growled. "But she just won't let me be. It's like that bitch trying to piss everyone off on purpose…"

"HEY! Are you guys talking about me?!" Dash shouted from behind them. They turned around, and while Tara was slightly flustered, Rachel was just angry.

"What was your first clue?" Rachel responded, sarcastically. "Was it the fact that you keep pissing us off, or did the word 'bitch' suddenly activate a command in your brain like bloody sleeper agent?" Rachel stopped in her tracks, while Dash slowed down to a walk.

"I don't like it when people talk about me behind my back," said Dash. Fiona and Pinky took notice, and started to move towards the other girls.

"Oh, like _you _haven't said shit behind other peoples' backs."

"Rachel," said Tara sternly. "Don't egg her on."

"Stay out of this, Spark," said Dash, who was now approaching Rachel. She pointed sternly at her. "When I say shit to people, I say it to their _face. _That's called fucking _respect._ Something you clearly can't understand."

"What is _that _supposed to mean?" asked Rachel, her voice growing louder.

"You think your fucking perfect, like your better than everyone else," Dash said, who was now standing directly in front of Rachel, glaring sharply at her. Dash started to speak in a horrible British accent as she started to mock Rachel. "Oh, look at me. I'm Rachel fucking Germain. I feel horrible about myself as a person, so I put on ridiculous outfits to make people forget that I look like the elephant man on the inside. It really helps when I use my sexy foreign accent, fake words, and giant tit implants to suck the cock of every man in the whole wide fucking world!" Dash stopped and sneered hard. "Face it, the only way you can feel like more than an empty pile of shit is by bringing everyone else down." Rachel took an advancing step forward, now staring directly into Dash's eyes.

"Maybe I'll bring _you _down, you selfish bitch!" Rachel challenged.

"I'd like to see you fucking try!" Dash shouted, now readying herself to fight.

By this point, Tara had wrapped her arms around Rachel and was separating the arguing pair to avoid a brawl. Pinky had grabbed Dash and was doing the same. Words and profanities flew back and forth between the pair, some of which Tara had never known to have existed. AJ took notice of the fight, and quickly ran over to break it up permanently.

"Calm down, you two!" she shouted as she reached the girls struggling to get their hands on one another. "Okay. I can see that tensions are running high over here. You're both tired from the work, I get that. But you two are going to have to get along. We are supposed to be a _team!" _AJ took a deep breath. "We're gonna take a break now. Maybe if ya get some food y'all will calm down a little."

Rachel and Dash calmed down, but were still glaring at each other, looking like predators ready to pounce. AJ looked at her so-called "team". Unless a miracle happened, it seemed that they would never be able to accomplish anything.

* * *

"I just can't believe her," said Rachel, as she was walking down the streets of Philadelphia. They had left the base to go to the city above them in search for food. They had enough money to buy things, so it wasn't a matter of what they ate. It was more of a matter of who ate what. Rachel and Dash refused to speak with each other, and if they were left alone, Tara was quite sure that they would rip each other's' throats out. So they decided to split up, which now left Tara and AJ stuck listening to Rachel complain, as they walked through the city.

"I can't believe she says that I only put others down. That's a load of bollocks…" Rachel was half-talking to herself, but still wanted to hear confirmation from the others. "…right?"

"Oh yeah," said Tara without thinking. "You're super nice." Rachel sighed and smiled.

"Of course. I always try my best to help people. Like, there was this one time…" Rachel told a story about her good deeds, but AJ and Tara weren't listening, instead having their own private conversation.

"By the way, Tara," said AJ. "I know this may sound weird, but thanks for all the help with the homework. The last thing I needed was to fail a class that I'm not really supposed to be taking."

"No problem," said Tara, happy to help. But this brought a question to her mind. "So wait, you _actually _needed help with that? It wasn't just some undercover scheme or anything?"

"Nope," said AJ simply. "I'm just really bad at schoolwork. Never really had to do much of it. As I told ya, most of my behavior was no lie."

"Does that mean you actually named your hat 'Winola'?" asked Tara. AJ's smiling face went blank. She stared straight ahead of her for a long moment. When she was done thinking, she sighed and glared back at Tara, who was starting to laugh.

"I really hate you sometimes, you know that?" said AJ to a now laughing Tara. It was the first time Tara had laughed since the shooting, and it was the same joke as before, but Tara still found it hysterical. Rachel had noticed Tara's laughs and realized that neither of them had been listening to her. She turned to the girls.

"Hey," Rachel started. "I'm trying to give myself self-confidence here. The _least _you could do is listen. What's so bloody funny anyway?"

"Oh, nothing," Tara managed to say through her giggles. She paused for a moment, before adding, "Hey, Rachel, did you know that AJ named her hat?"

* * *

"She's a bitch," said Dash walking down the street. Pinky bounced cheerily alongside her, while Fiona slowly trudged behind them. Fiona didn't like Dash, at least not yet. She hadn't really gotten a chance to speak with her in person, but she had heard Tara talking about _their_ multiple run-ins. Now, listening to the girl talk about someone else in a negative manner, Fiona could see why Tara found Dash less than charming. As for Pinky, Fiona had once been trapped by the blonde girl for an hour, when she was stopped on campus and asked to buy sweets. Fiona made the simple mistake of asking for what type of sweets Pinky sold, and before she knew it, sixty minutes flew by as Pinky rambled on about different types of sugars, the properties of anti-matter, and the current crisis in the Middle East. Rumors had flown around school that Pinky was a heavy cocaine addict, and that "candy" was a code word for drugs. By watching the way Pinky bounced about with the combined energy of fifteen six-year olds with ADHD, Fiona honestly wouldn't be surprised if the rumors were true.

"I mean, I get that I can be a little bitchy sometimes," continued Dash, who assumed that everyone was listening to her. "But I never say mean shit about someone when they can't defend themselves, unlike that stupid whore…"

_Right,_ thought Fiona. _You certainly don't say _anything _behind others' backs._

Fiona was shocked that she even thought something like that. She didn't usually think harshly about others. But she almost saw Dash as a bully, and she had never been kind to the cruel ways of others, especially after some of the things done to her in her childhood.

"Yeah!" shouted Pinky enthusiastically. She paused. "Wait, who are we talking about?"

"Germain," said Dash with a sneer. Even when Dash was thinking of her, she was incredibly angry. It didn't help that she hadn't eaten anything, and she'd been awake since three o'clock.

"Ohhhh. But I thought we liked her?" Pinky asked, sincerely.

"Forget it," said Dash, annoyed by her friend's lack of focus. She kept looking around her, her eyes scanning every corner. "Where are the fucking hot dog stands? This is supposed to be a _city_."

"You're thinking of New York," said Fiona, timidly. She didn't know exactly how to say what she wanted to Dash, but she knew not to anger the rainbow-haired girl, especially now. "This is Philadelphia. There aren't vendors on the street."

"Really? Fuck. Okay then, we're stopping at the first place we find. I don't care if the food tastes like shit; I'm fucking _hungry_," said Dash, holding her growling stomach. She was having a bad day. She was tired, annoyed, and extremely hungry. She was just hoping that her day would get better, before anything else bad came her way.

* * *

AJ had recommended a restaurant close by to their base of operations. After the girls took their order and the waitress left them, Rachel asked a question she had been concerning herself with all day.

"So, are you going to make us wear, like, whatever there is, or do we have some kind of influence over what we will be dressing in?" asked Rachel pointing at her clothes. AJ laughed.

"Rachel, the last thing you should be worried about is what you _wear_," AJ half-joked. Rachel took the comment with slight offense.

"Hey, _I _am a woman of fashion," Rachel remarked with a high sense of superiority. "And you dragged us to a bloody base in the middle of Pennsylvania-"

"Philadelphia," Tara corrected. "Pennsylvania is a state."

"Sorry," Rachel corrected her mistake and continued. "We didn't bring anything with us. All of my gowns are still back at the college. And I bet our base doesn't have any shops in it."

"Speaking of which," Interrupted Tara. "Does the base have a name, or anything?" AJ was puzzled by the remark.

"What are ya goin' on about?" the southern girl asked.

"Well," explained Tara. "In every spy book I've read, they always have some secret base with a cheesy name. But our base doesn't have a name."

"Should we really be having this talk here?" said Rachel. They looked around the restaurant, seeing a dozen people eating around them, enjoying good cuisine.

"First of all, I don't think anyone here is focusing on us right now," commented AJ, looking around to see people directing their attention to the meals before them. She turned to Tara. "And second of all, no, we _don't_ need a name for the base."

"Why not?" said Tara, now smirking at her friend. "You named your hat, so why not the base? OW!" Tara yelped as AJ punched her hard in her shoulder, close to her stitches. Tara rubbed her shoulder, ignoring the stinging feeling running through her arm. Meanwhile, Rachel started to snicker.

"I still can't believe you named your hat…" Rachel said through her laughs.

"Ya know, I can take us back to the base and make ya run more laps, if ya really want to," AJ egged on. Rachel and Tara became silent. They sat completely still, no longer acting out, as AJ grinned one of the largest grins Tara had ever seen.

"That's more like it," she said, adjusting her hat to make herself more comfortable. Before long, the waitress had shown up carrying a tray of food. Tara knew how to eat healthy. She knew how to pick light, filling choices that gave her a boost of energy and strengthen her muscles. But she hadn't eaten anything in over twenty-four hours, and she was so hungry that her stomach had become loud enough to scare away a family of deer. So, she ordered the biggest burger they had on the menu, all of the toppings included, and a side of fries. Rachel had decided to be lady like, and ordered a chicken salad. But when she caught a whiff of the large beef patty, her mouth watered uncontrollably. Even AJ, who had actually eaten within the past five hours, was starting to crave a bite of Tara's giant burger. Tara noticed the girls eyeing her lunch, and quickly pulled the plate away from them. Rachel began pleading with her friend.

"Come on, Tara," Rachel said, never taking her eyes off of the sandwich. "Let's be reasonable here. That thing is freaking _massive_."

"You're not getting a bite," Tara said sternly, wrapping her arms around the plate defensively.

"_Please. _Just one teensy, tiny, little nibble," Rachel pleaded.

"No way," said Tara. "You could've ordered this for yourself, but you didn't. You have your lunch, I have mine."

"That's not a lunch," Rachel said, pointing at the imposing patty. "That's a goddamn _buffet_!

"Well, I'm _really _hungry."

"_I'm _really hungry."

"Then eat your salad," said Tara, gesturing to Rachel's untouched meal.

"I'm not going to eat a salad when I see _that _thing being eaten in front of me," claimed Rachel.

"Well, _you _were the one who decided to be 'lady-like' when getting food," stated Tara accusingly.

"And now you can be lady-like by offering a bite of food to your starving friends," said Rachel. Tara stared at her.

"You don't hear AJ complaining," Tara gestured to her friend who was calmly sitting next to her, avoiding the confrontation.

"Mhm, hmm," came AJ's reply. Rachel and Tara never broke eye contact with each other.

"That's because AJ ate," replied Rachel. "I'm starving."

"Look," said Tara, trying to be rational. "We are both hungry, and both want the burger. I'm sure there is some way to work this out."

"I just want a bite," said Rachel defensively.

"No you don't," stated Tara. "You would eat a small sample of my food, and then your brain would start automatically craving more of it. You'll keep taking bites until you eat the whole burger."

"So what do we do?" asked Rachel, eagerly.

"Simple. The person who buys the food, eats the food. And we each used our own money to buy things," Tara said factually. Realization was dawning on Rachel, who was trying to understand what Tara was saying.

"So what you're saying is…"

"You're. Not. Getting. A. _Bite_," Tara said, punctuating each word to make sure Rachel got the message. "That's final." Rachel slammed her head on the table and groaned.

"Fine," she said in defeat, looking back up at Tara. "I'll just sit here and be a proper woman while you stuff your face with that rancid beef. Oh, and by the way, AJ's been stealing your fries this entire time." Tara looked over at her southern friend, who, sure enough, was calmly holding a pile of fries in one hand, while taking one and putting it in her mouth with the other.

"AJ!" yelled Tara, trying to swipe the fries out of her friend's hands. AJ easily moved her hand out, away from Tara's reach. Rachel was snickering to herself, watching Tara futilely try to regain possession of her food. Eventually, Tara gave up; trying to be content with half of the fries she had prior. She took another sniff of the burger. It smelled heavenly. A rich concoction of seasoning properly added to the patty, allowing for the ultimate seal of flavor. The cheese was melted and draped over the patty, still sizzling from the heat of the grill. The perfect balance of lettuce, tomato, onion, bacon, mushrooms and pickles topped the burger, with ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise drizzled over the perfect mound of food before Tara's eyes. All of this was held together by a sesame seed bun, which Tara happily grabbed onto. The burger was larger than her hands, which made examining it a slight challenge, as Tara tried to find the perfect angle at which to bite into her meal.

_**BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM**_

The girls felt the ground hake beneath them, as an explosion rang out from a few blocks away. The girls were shocked, unsure of what to do, until AJ drew their attention.

"Come on," she said, fixing her hat. "Let's see what that was." She got up from the table, and made her way towards the door. Rachel and Tara looked at each other, startled. "What are y'all waiting for?! Hurry up!" AJ called out to the girls at the table. Regretfully, Tara put down her burger as she and Rachel ran out the door to join AJ. But before the door fully closed, Rachel ran back into the restaurant. She sprinted back to the table, picked up Tara's burger, and took a large bite of it. As the flavor set in, she moaned.

_Oh God, that's good, _she thought. She put down the burger, and sprinted back outside to catch up with the others.

* * *

Two blocks over, somewhat of a crisis had been worked up over at the Johnson-Johnson United Bank. Hostages were being held inside by a group of three armed men. Susan Driefer was in the unfortunate circumstance of being one of these hostages. Her day had started out as usual. She had woken up to car horns blaring outside of her apartment. She ate a piece of toast for breakfast, and then headed to her work at a retail store, selling old shoes. But today, she needed to open a new account, for her last one was recently broken into, leaving her robbed blind. It wasn't as if she had much money in the first place, but it was still devastating. Of course, her luck would have it that three homicidal maniacs happened to stroll into the bank, and were now terrorizing everybody around her. She looked around at the three men. The first was short and stocky, walking around and pointing his shotgun at the ten hostages. His head was bald, and the lights of the bank reflected off of his scalp. The second man was standing by the doorway, his long main of black hair flowing past his shoulders. He was holding open the door with his shoulder, holding a grenade launcher and shooting at random cars outside of the building. Occasionally, he would scratch his chin, which was hidden under a thick beard. The last man terrified her. The other two men were wearing normal clothes, while this man was wearing an all-white suit, with a black button shirt and a white tie. On the back of his suit-jacket, a black dragon was imprinted. A white fedora was placed atop his head. But his face scared her the most. His entire face was painted yellow, with his neck and ears covered with black make-up. He had black circles covering his eyes, and appeared to be wearing black lipstick. Black lines were drawn over his cheeks, transforming the entire image into that of a crude smiley face. He laughed every time the grenade launcher fired, as he twirled a revolver around his finger, which happened to be on his left hand. The bald man turned to him.

"Uh, Discord?" he questioned the laughing man. "Aren't we supposed to, you know, be hunting for those girls?" Discord laughed again.

"Probably," he admitted, but he didn't seem to truly care. "But we can wait to do that. There's always time for causing extreme acts of violence." Discord walked over to the bearded man. "Any signs of police yet, Oh Clyde, my buddy, my pal?"

"No one yet," said Clyde. "Though I'm sure they're hearing the results of _this _bad boy." He fired another round, blowing up a car parked across the street. "I'll be ready for them."

"You're sick," said another woman, disgusted with what the men were doing. Discord paused, then walked towards the girl, and knelt down beside her.

"No, _you're_ the sick ones," stated Discord matter-of-factly. He pointed the revolver towards her head, and then spun the chamber on the gun. "All of you people here don't appreciate the true nature of your lives. You all like to live in your boring homes, while you decide to waste your lives fucking a bunch of meaningless pricks. I choose to appreciate what life is truly about: Uncertainty, randomness, pure unadulterated chance. And now, you're going to appreciate it, too."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" questioned the woman. Discord ignored her, instead thinking of a difficult question.

"Okay, here's how this is going to work," he said, keeping his gun trained on her. "I'm going to ask you a question. Get it wrong, and I shoot you. Got it?" The girl was struggling to figure out what the lunatic was talking about.

"In that new musical, _Living a Spectacular Life,_ who is the man that Samantha goes to see regarding her love affair?" asked Discord. The girl was baffled, unable to understand the meaning of her current predicament. She couldn't think properly, everything confused her so much.

"I… I don't-"

"Whoops, time's up!" shouted Discord, before he immediately shot her three times in the chest, laughing manically as he did other hostages screamed, as a sense of shock spread over the occupants of the bank.

"What was that for?" nervously asked Susan. Discord sighed, and then walked over to her.

"You wouldn't understand," he said, almost somberly. "When I was young, I learned that society likes to keep itself firmly in check, never straying too far into abnormality. People think that order is necessary for the world to function. But it isn't order that created the world. It was The Chaos Theory. The chance that absolutely anything could happen at any time. It's beautiful. But people just don't understand." He took a deep breath, and then slapped Susan across the face. "So, if I gotta murder someone because they haven't watched my favorite fucking Broadway show, just to make a fucking point about not fucking acting like everyone wants, DON'T FUCKING QUESTION IT!"

"But Discord," Lloyd spoke up. "I've seen _Living a Spectacular Life. _Ain't no nobody is named 'Samantha' in it."

"I know," Discord said calmly. "Never actually _saw _any musicals. Not a Broadway fan. Still, can't help but smile at life, right?"

* * *

As Tara was running down the street, she took out her cell phone. It was taken away from her when they first arrived at their base, but Celestia had kindly given it back to her an hour ago, claiming that they needed to make it untraceable to outside sources. She took out her phone and called one of the only people she had on her contacts list that wasn't family or school related.

* * *

Fiona was having a miserable time. It wasn't enough that she had to listen to Dash constantly talking about how great of an athlete she was. She also had to keep Pinky in line, and stop her from running away towards the first distraction she saw. Fiona was simply glad that she was sitting at a pizza place, enjoying the brief break she got from the chaos of her new "friends". Dash had ordered two pies, topped with a variety of meats and veggies. As Fiona casually finished one slice, she noticed that Dash and Pinky had eaten five slices each, with little sign of ceasing. She sighed, and sat quietly as Dash continued to talk about her achievements to the blonde girl.

_Bzzzzzzttt_

Fiona took her phone out of her pocket, and, seeing that Tara was calling her, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Fiona! You guys need to get over here fast!" Tara shouted from over the phone. Fiona grew concerned.

"Tara, is something wrong? Are you okay?" Fiona asked.

"I'm fine for now," said Tara "But you got to here. It sounds like something _big _is going on."

"Where are you?" asked Fiona, worriedly.

"I'm not sure," admitted Tara. "But don't worry; I'm _sure _that you'll figure it out." Tara hung up the phone, and Fiona immediately stood up from her table, and ran outside. Curious, Dash and Pinky ran after her.

"Fiona," said Pinky opening the door. "Where are you-"

_**BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM**_

_Oh,_ thought Fiona. _That's what the problem is._

* * *

When Tara, AJ, and Rachel arrived at the bank, several police cars were already surrounding the building. A cop halted the girls' approach.

"FREEZE! DO NOT GET ANY CLOSER!" he shouted. "This is a dangerous zo-"

_**BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM**_

A car exploded nearby, causing the girls to be knocked back by the force. The cop was blown to his feet. Meanwhile, Discord stood in front of the door to the bank, holding Susan in front of him as a human shield.

"Please!" he shouted, pretending to beg for his life. "Don't shoot! It would be a tragedy if someone had to get hurt here."

"Put the hostage down and put your hands in the air!" shouted a police sergeant over a megaphone. There were at least twenty cops around the building, all pointing their guns at Discord. No one was willing to take the shot. Discord turned his head to his men inside the building.

"Lloyd," he said. "Let the hostages go." The bald man, Lloyd, forced the hostages to their feet. He motioned them towards the door, and one by one, the hostages slowly filed out of the building. Meanwhile, Clyde pulled a detonator out of his pocket, and flicked several switches the switches on the device.

_Beep_

Tara heard a small noise coming from her right. She turned; now looking at the building located next to her, but could not find any source to the noise.

_Beep_

The noise came again, but this time, Tara saw the source for the noise. A small, silver, circular object was stuck to the side of the building. It had a small red bulb on top of it that flashed whenever it beeped. Tara picked up the object.

_Beep Beep Beep_

"Hey AJ, do you know what this is?" asked Tara as she showed AJ the small object. The cops had also noticed beeping coming from around them. The hostages, who were standing behind the cops, also took notice. AJ took one glance at the object, and her eyes went wide.

_BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep_

Quickly, AJ snatched the object out of Tara's hand, and threw it as far away as she could. She grabbed her two friends, and pushed them around the corner of the street.

"Get down!" she shouted as she pressed her friends against the wall. The police looked around for the source of the beeping, but they couldn't see them anywhere. But one cop suddenly took notice of a small object stuck to one of the hostage's back. Without warning, Discord pushed Susan into the crowd, and took cover.

_Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep_

_**BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM**_

**To Be Continued...**


	3. Chapter 2: The First Steps (2)

******Note: If anything in the following story is worth noting, positive or negative, good or bad, leave a comment about via review. If every person who read this sentence left a review, the impact would be incredible. We at GodSaveTheKings greatly appreciate feedback, as it substantially helps with the writing process. So please, make your voice heard.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: The First Steps**

**Part 2 of 2: A Bold New Direction**

A large series of explosions sent vibrations through the ground and the walls, knocking Tara and Rachel to the floor. Each of the hostages was planted with the small explosive, and each of them promptly exploded when the devices were triggered, taking out the cops and most of the surrounding area. They didn't have time to scream before they were blown apart. But luckily, thanks to quick thinking, Tara and Rachel were relatively alright, although they were quite shaken and terrified.

"Dear God!" shouted Rachel. Tara immediately covered Rachel's mouth.

"We can't let them hear us," whispered Tara. She was secretly panicking on the inside, but she tried to put on her calmest expression for Rachel's sake. "We just have to stay calm until someone comes for help. Right, AJ?" Tara turned to her southern friend for a response, but received none. In fact, AJ wasn't even next to her. Tara and Rachel looked around, but AJ had run off somewhere.

Meanwhile, Discord was laughing hysterically at the piles of assorted limbs lying before him. Several police officers struggled to rise to their feet, but they were quickly shot down by the psychopath. He fired off his six shots, before turning to his men.

"Don't you just love it when there are multiple innocent casualties of a random act of violence?" he asked his men. But when he looked towards Clyde and Lloyd, Clyde was lying on the ground and clutching his head, while AJ was holding her arm around Lloyd's neck and pointing her sidearm towards Discord. To say the least, he was rather confused.

"Who the _fuck_ are you supposed to be?" Discord asked. He didn't show any true signs of concern, but rather curiosity. AJ ignored his behavior.

"Put ya gun down, _now_," AJ ordered. "I will not hesitate to shoot ya."

"You're really going to shoot me with _that_ thing," sighed Discord, motioning to AJ's gun. AJ shot near Discord's feet, causing him to jump slightly.

"I said, put the gun down," repeated AJ. "I _will_ kill you."

"First of all, you _won't_ kill me," said Discord calmly. He made no effort to put down his weapon. "You want to bring me in alive so you can ask me questions about my organization. Secondly, if you were to kill me, I hope you'd at least use a better gun."

"What are you talking about?" said AJ. She had no idea who this man was, let alone who he was working for. He smiled at her.

"You don't have any idea who I am, do you?"

"I don't need to know who you are," AJ said. "And I'm not police. I don't _need_ to keep you alive."

"Well, for the sake of formalities," Discord took off his hat, and politely bowed to the woman before him. "_I_ am the Lord Discord, head of the Smiling Dragons. And if I were you, I'd kill me within the next, say… thirty seconds."

"Why?" asked AJ, readying her weapon.

"Because in thirty seconds, I'll escape."

"And how do you suppose that'll happen?" said AJ. She smirked at him, knowing full well that he couldn't move before she fired at him. All variables were accounted for, and there was no chance for a sudden escape.

"FREEZE! Get on the ground now!"

AJ and Discord turned towards the door, and AJ suddenly felt very confused and annoyed. Tara and Rachel were standing in the doorway, trying their best not to let their fear show. They were holding firearms that were taken from the corpses outside, and were pointing them at Discord. Discord was now even more confused than he was sheer moments ago.

"Who the fuck are _you_ two supposed to be?" he asked.

"Girls get back, y'all shouldn't be here right now," yelled AJ.

"You just abandoned us back there," said Rachel, who was nervously shaking, causing the gun to wobble in her hands.

"You guys know each other?" asked Discord, looking back and forth between the ladies. His question was ignored as AJ continued yelling.

"It's too dangerous for you to be here," she yelled.

"This is what we're being trained for," Tara reasoned.

"No. Y'all are not ready for this," AJ said. Discord was constantly turning around to witness the argument unfold.

"I'm in the middle of something, aren't I?" Discord joked. "I mean, you don't usually see a bunch of teenagers holding a criminal mastermind at gunpoint that often, right?"

"You two are going to get yourself _killed_ if you act this recklessly," AJ warned.

"You're the one who ran off by yourse-"

Tara stated to argue, but was soon cut off when she heard the sound of a fast moving car rapidly approaching. A white SUV screeched down the road, before coming to a stop in front of the bank. Two men jumped out of the vehicle, and started firing their machine guns towards the bank. Tara and Rachel quickly dove for cover out of the range of fire. In the chaos that followed, Discord quickly took aim and shot the gun out of AJ's hand. Lloyd grabbed on to her arm still wrapped around his neck, and rolled AJ over his back, sending her crashing to the floor in front of him. Clyde stood up, and the three criminals quickly ran out of the bank and into the car. But before they left, Discord politely took of his hat to bow to Tara, who was pressing herself to the inside of the bank wall. The car hurriedly drove away from the bank. AJ recovered fast enough to run outside and see the vehicle in the distance.

"Fuck," she muttered to herself. She rubbed her ribs, which she poorly landed on when she fell. Tara came out of the bank and ran to AJ. "You know, I had that situation under control."

"But we didn't know that. We thought they killed you. You didn't tell us that you were going to single handedly take out the bad guys," said Tara, very annoyed. AJ sighed in disappointment.

"Well, their gone now," AJ somberly said. "There really ain't much we can do about that."

Suddenly, they heard a car rapidly approaching them. Soon, a small, blue car zoomed past the girls, nearly running them over, and headed towards the direction of Discord's car. Tara was shocked by what she saw. AJ however, didn't understand why.

"Um, Tara, are you alright?" AJ asked her. Tara's mouth was hanging open as she tried to explain what she had seen.

"I… I think that might have been Dash driving that thing."

* * *

"Dash, slow down," Fiona begged from the backseat of the car. Dash was in hot pursuit of the criminals using a car that she hotwired outside of the pizza place. So far, the criminals had not noticed that they were being tailed. So, Dash was trying to get as close to the other car as possible, even if it meant breaking the law by going thirty miles over the speed limit.

"Calm your tits, girl," Dash shouted. Dash turned on the radio and started blasting rock and roll music through the speakers. Pinky, who was sitting in the passenger's seat, started to play an imaginary guitar to the tune of the music.

"Man, this is really cool; traveling down the streets in a super cool chase scene while listening to some freaking cool music. Who is this band, anyway?" Pinky asked Dash. Dash shook her head and laughed.

"I don't even fucking know! But, yeah, this song kicks ass!" Dash shouted over the music. Soon, she found herself right behind Discord's vehicle. Dash was extremely excited to say the least. Fiona was hugging the seat in front of her for protection, feeling rather certain that she was about to die. Pinky got slightly more serious for the moment, as the threat seemed to reach her on a subconscious level. Dash took one hand off of the wheel, reached into her back pocket, and pulled out a pistol.

"Pinky, when I say so, shoot the car in front of us," said Dash, grinning. "We'll show those bastards what we can do."

"Where did you get that?" Fiona said in a panic.

"Stole it from the base," responded Dash, handing her gun to Pinky. She rolled down the window on Pinky's side of the car. "Get ready to fire."

Pinky took the gun and readied her aim. When Dash gave the command, Pinky leaned out of her open window, steadied her aim, and shot at the back window of the car. But instead of passing through the glass, the bullet merely wedged itself into the back window. In the other car, Discord and his men heard the impact of the shot.

"I think that car is shooting at us," Lloyd said to his boss.

"Nice observation," Discord said sarcastically. "Anything else you want to mention? You know, the sun is bright, the grass is green, THE GODDAMN MOON FLOATS IN THE SKY?! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He turned his attention to his driver, regaining his composure. "Manny, lose these fuckers." The driver nodded, and he turned on the next corner, driving now in the wrong direction. Behind him, Dash made a sudden turn to follow him, causing Pinky to lose her balance and nearly fall out the window. But she remained in the car, and started to take shots at the car's tires. The SUV constantly swerved to avoid incoming cars, taking sudden turns to try to lose the girls. But Dash remained in hot pursuit, managing to avoid incoming traffic, albeit without the grace that the gang members had. The constant turning prevented Pinky from achieving her goal: shooting out one of the tires on the SUV. Before she knew it, she was out of ammo, so she turned back to Dash.

"Dash," she shouted over the heavy metal song that was now playing. "Need another clip. This one's empty."

"Don't got one," admitted Dash, trying to focus on following the criminals. Pinky was dumbfounded.

"You mean you grabbed a Beretta 92FS without getting any extra ammo for this thing?!" Pinky shouted. "That's standard military procedure. That be like a cupcake without sprinkles, or chicken without feathers, or-"

"I get it! I fucked up," said Dash. "You can complain later. For now, let's think of another way to kill these dipshits." Discord's men, however, had already taken notice of the fact that they were no longer being shot at, and were coming up with a plan for a counter-attack.

"They stopped firing," said Lloyd. "What do we do now, boss?"

"First of all, stop telling me 'bout shit that I already fucking know!" complained Discord. "Now, my plan is simple. You still have that grenade launcher, right Clyde?" Clyde smiled at him. The sun roof of the SUV slid open, and Discord stood up through it. The P.O.N.Y's were unsure of what he was going to do. Then, he pulled the grenade launcher through the sun roof, and aimed it at the car.

Fear ran through the girls as they realized what was about to happen. Dash didn't say anything, too afraid to speak. Pinky too was silent, and Fiona gripped the seat even tighter, hoping that everything would be okay. Discord laughed, maniacally.

"YIPPEE KI YAY, MOTHA FUCKA!" Discord shouted gleefully, as he pulled the trigger.

_Click_

Discord waited for something to explode, but nothing did. He pulled the trigger again and again, trying to get the weapon to fire, but nothing happened. He was out of ammo. As the girls realized the luck of their situation, Discord grew annoyed. He angrily tossed the launcher to the side of the road, and pulled out his revolver. He expertly twirled the gun in his hand, even doing tricks with it, such as tossing it in the air and rotating it sideways. While Dash was busy watching the road, Pinky was watching his skills with the weapon. Without warning, he stopped twirling and fired off three rounds into the front right tire of the girls' car. They swerved off of the road, before crashing against a nearby building. Discord was contempt with himself, as he drove away, making his escape. The girls were left relatively unharmed by the crash, but they were still shaken from the experience. They stayed in the car to catch their breath, as they watched Discord fade into the distance.

* * *

"You all nearly got yourself killed with your behavior out there," Celestia scolded. They returned to the base, tired and defeated. They were now sitting in a room filled with computer monitors and large pieces of government technology, as Wilson and Celestia discussed their actions.

"But we almost got 'em," argued Dash.

"You almost got them, but didn't," Wilson added. "The amount of rule breaking and misbehavior you demonstrated is unacceptable. You're all lucky to be alive."

"The problem is that you are trying to work individually, instead of working as a single unit," said Celestia. "Rebecca, you hijacked and totaled someone's car. Rachel, Tara, you both ran into a hostage situation with no battlefield experience. You didn't even know how to operate the firearms that you were holding." Tara and Rachel felt shameful for their actions, but Dash took Celestia's words as a compliment, and she smiled to herself.

"Patricia, you displayed no ability to adapt to your situation, and you went along with Rebecca's suicidal plan. And Fiona, you could have prevented the entire hijacking, but did nothing," Celestia continued.

"It's not their fault," said AJ. She knew that her friends would be unable to defend themselves against the onslaught of the Chairmen. But she knew that she could. She had done so before. "We could attest all of our problems to two key factors. One: we didn't have a strong line of communication. And two: they're not ready for stuff like this yet. They don't have the proper training or experience.'

"That's an excellent point," said General Wilson. "But unfortunately, that brings us to our biggest problem; you." AJ was confused.

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"What did I do?" asked AJ, feeling insulted.

"A great many things," said Celestia. "You were supposed to be looking after the rest of your team. Yet in the time of crisis, you took matters into your own hands and left them alone."

"But I-"

"You also let your guard down in a hostage situation," added General Wilson. "You had no means to take the criminals alive even if you wanted to, so why not kill them and save lives? It's almost disgraceful that someone with your training would make such a simple mistake."

"I'm sorry, sir," AJ bowed her head in shame. "It won't happen again."

"Of course it won't," said the General. "Because we're demoting you."

AJ was shocked.

"You're… demoting me?" she asked, stunned.

Celestia nodded. "As of this moment, you will relieve your duties as Field Leader for the P.O.N.Y unit."

"But I-"

"It's final," Celestia said sternly. AJ stopped speaking, her anger turning to humiliation. "You faced dangerous people today. If you're going to beat them you need to learn to be part of a team before you can lead one."

"Um," interrupted Tara. She had many thoughts that needed answering, all of which she had been pondering since she came back to the base. "I have a question."

"Speak your mind," said the General.

"Well, it's just," mumbled Tara. She couldn't think of the correct wording for her question. "Who were those guys? I read the news every day, and I never heard of any group called the Smiling Dragons before."

"Of course you haven't heard anything," said Celestia. "The Smiling Dragons run the press. And the banks. And the cops."

"The cops that were dispatched were probably members that Discord couldn't get along with, so he cut them loose," added Wilson.

"We've been tracking this 'Discord' for about a year now," said Celestia. "He's been involved with countless acts of terrorism, homicide, gang violence, drug trafficking, rape, you name it. And every time we think we have him, he manages to escape. From what we've gathered, he's only doing this for the sake of causing as much pain as possible to the people around him."

"That's fucked up," muttered Dash. Celestia heard and smiled slightly.

"You could say that," she said. "The point is that it's a miracle that you girls survived. If you weren't so lucky, he'd probably have you skinned and eaten alive." The girls shuddered. Celestia checked her watch. "Anyway, if that's all of the questions, then-"

"Wait," said Tara. "One last thing."

"Yes…" said Wilson.

"If AJ's not going to be the field leader, then who is?" asked Tara. She believed that if she were to charge headfirst into combat, she should at least be given the decency of knowing who would lead her.

"Well," said the General, as he and Celestia walked towards the door. "I think that would be for you girls to decide. After all, we're not the ones doing the field work." Wilson and Celestia left, leaving the girls to themselves. Now, there was simply one question on their minds:

Who should lead?

"So, I'm going to be the leader, right?" said Dash. Rachel immediately objected.

"Why do you think that we'd ever follow you?" Rachel said harshly. Dash grinned.

"Because I'm the coolest fucking one here," Dash said, with no hint of modesty. "I'm the most athletic, I'm the second best shot, I'm the one who took initiative and drove after the bad guys, and I could kick all of your asses." Dash paused. "Except for the cowgirl's."

"But no one want to follow you," Rachel snapped back at Dash. "You don't have a sense of responsibility. You just follow your own way without caring who gets left behind."

"Oh, like you would do any better," said Dash with a sneer. "You would be so focused on not breaking a nail or bursting a balloon that you wouldn't get anything done. Just like the selfish bitch you are."

Rachel stomped right up to Dash's face and looked her in the eye.

"I'll break your skull, you filthy little-"

"ENOUGH!' shouted AJ, who was now stepping between the angry girls. "You two need to calm down, now!" Dash pushed AJ away.

"Shut up," she yelled. "You're not the boss of me. Not anymore, at least." AJ nearly slapped Dash across the face, but her self-restraint held her back. However, Tara decided to defend her friend.

"Don't insult AJ," Tara said to Dash. "All you seem to do is insult people. Just stop it. Now." Dash was unfazed by Tara's comments.

"Be careful what you say to me, Spark," Dash said. "When I'm leader, there's going to be strict punishment for speaking against your all-knowing commander."

"Oh please," said Rachel. "Even Pinky would be a better leader than you." Pinky, who until this point had stayed out of the fight, was now feeling rather insulted.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she said, almost angrily. Dash laughed.

"You know exactly what it means," said Dash. Pinky suddenly started to turn on Dash, and soon, the five girls had descended into a mess of insults and arguments, all of which served no other point than to continue the fighting. This kept going for what seemed like hours, until one soft voice drew the attention of the arguing team.

"I think Tara should be the leader."

Everyone stopped and turned towards the voice. Fiona felt their gazes upon her, and hid her face under the hood of her jacket. She didn't mean to attract attention. In fact, she hated it when people looked at her. But she felt like something should be said, and her opinion should be known. Fiona took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. After all, they were her friends, and they would respect her opinion. Or at least, that is what she hoped.

"I mean," Fiona tried to elaborate. "She is the smartest one out of all of us. And she was really good with that strategy training that AJ gave us. And she was the head of a bunch of clubs, or at least I think she was. And she always prepares ahead for pretty much everything. And… well… I don't know…I just think it's a good idea. If you don't think so, though, that's fine." The thought buzzed through the minds of everyone. It did seem like a rather reasonable idea. None of them could truly say that they had any issue with it. But Dash, still seeking a role of superiority, disagreed entirely.

"No way!" Dash exclaimed. She was still hoping to change the minds of her peers. "I mean, Spark as leader? Come on, that's crazy! She has no physical abilities." Rachel came to Tara's defense.

"Well, I'd much rather take orders from her than you. At least she will come up with some form of strategy," claimed Rachel, now wrapping her arm Tara's shoulder. Pinky chimed in as well.

"I think she'd do a pretty good job," Pinky admitted.

"Well," said AJ, considering the possibility. "She is pretty darn smart. And I've seen the schedule she had at college, and damn was that thing extensive. I think you should do it, girl." Tara was quite stunned from all the praise she was getting. She was used to people saying good things about her, but this was a completely different experience.

"You-you really all want me to the leader?" Tara asked in astonishment. All of the girls replied honestly.

"Yep."

"Absolutely"

"Of course."

"Yeah yeah yeah!"

"Not really…"

"Okay then," Tara stated proudly. "I guess I'm the new leader!" Cheers of praise and joy filled the room, except for Dash, who just groaned.

"You better not fuck this up, Spark," Dash said with a sneer. Tara just smiled at her.

"Don't worry," Tara said happily. "I'll make sure we won't fail again."

An awkward silence then filled the room. No one was really quite sure of what to do next. Tara turned to AJ.

"So… what do we do now?" Tara asked, awkwardly.

"Now," said AJ, pulling her cell phone out of her back pocket. "We figure out how to break into this place." She turned on her phone, and soon, a map of the city popped up, with a bright red dot placed on a random building. The girls huddled around the phone, and looked at the marked address. It wasn't their current location, but Tara had a feeling she knew where it was.

"Is that…"

"Yep," said AJ, knowing full well what Tara was thinking. "That's Discord's hideout. I placed a tracer on one of his henchman back at the bank. This must be where he went to."

"Great," said Pinky. "Now we can stop the bad guys, and be heroes and get presents and happiness and-"

"Um, Pinky," Fiona said quietly. "We don't know how to get into his hideout. It probably has a bunch of guards and traps."

"Well, let's take a look," said AJ, walking to the nearest computer in the room. After some fiddling around with the settings, she managed to gain access to images detailing Philadelphia from every angle. She typed in the address, and before she knew it, she had a full 3D profile of the target building. Tara looked at the images, and thought hard.

"Guys," she said, taking a seat at the computer. "I might need some time alone with this to think of something. Can you leave the room for a few minutes?" The girls nodded and left the room.

They patiently waited outside. It was approaching 3 o'clock, yet everyone was feeling tired. After thirteen minutes alone, Tara entered the hallway, happy with her plan.

"Do you think we can do it?" asked Rachel anxiously. Tara smiled at her.

"Oh, I know we can do it," Tara said confidently. "But we have to do it tonight." The girls grew worried, AJ in particular.

"But Tara," she reasoned. "Wilson will never give us the permission to complete something in just a few hours."

"I know," said Tara. "Which is why he'll never know." The others gasped.

"You mean we're gonna have to completely disobey the high authority, and go all stealthy on this motherfucker?" said Dash. Tara nodded. Dash grinned. "You may not be so bad after all, Spark."

"Oh, and one last thing," Tara added. "One of you is going to have to be a distraction for the guards." The girls looked at each other. Rachel was curious about the plan, and spoke up.

"What do you mean 'distract'?" she questioned. "Do you mean like, we have to shoot at them, or just draw their attention. Because if so, then how do we attract a bunch of psychopaths to-" Rachel paused, and looked around at the others. They were all smiling at her.

"Why is everybody looking at me like that?"

* * *

It was now eight o'clock. If all went to plan, the attack would occur in two hours' time. Still, there a few loose ends to tie up. AJ had left to get the proper clothing, leaving the rest of the girls alone in the base. Rachel was nervously waiting for AJ to show up with her attire, but as that was still far from occurring, she decided to practice hand-to-hand combat with Fiona. Pinky was happily distracting General Wilson with a long, complicated story about the time she thought she saw a UFO. By the time it was over, the General would hopefully be retreating to his quarters for sleep. But Tara had a much more difficult task. She was standing at a gun range, holding a weapon in her hand. She raised the gun to take a shot. She knew she would have to take lives in this job, and she was prepared to do so. But when she raised the gun to the target, all she saw was a man staring back at her, ready to kill. Instead of giving her drive, it made her put the gun back down and briefly walk away from the shooting range. She couldn't do it. She didn't know why, but it just felt wrong to her. The idea of killing someone, no matter who they were or what they had done, disgusted her. She supposed that deep down, it was actually quite a good thing. It proved that she wasn't a psychopath, or that she was going to turn into a deranged lunatic. But she was in the unfortunate predicament of having to kill people on a regular basis.

She walked towards the wall of weapons, and took a look at the large assortment of weaponry placed on the walls. She noticed that not just guns were hanging from the wall, but a large variation of knives, explosives, blades, and other practical ways to kill. Tara distasted the guns. She could only imagine the innocents brought down by such horrid weaponry, living happy lives before they were immediately torn apart from the inside. She had never truly examined such guns up close before. She believed that they should be kept around, of course, for the sake of protection, but she also felt that she would become extremely ill if she were to ever use such a device on someone. She examined the wall, feeling slightly sicker with every piece of equipment she saw.

But then something caught her eye. Out of all of the exotic equipment, there was one standing out. It was suspended far away from the others, in the far right corner. And unlike the other guns proudly displayed for all to see, this object was displayed in a long, grey box. It was just within Tara's reach, so she grabbed it and pulled it off of the shelf. She carefully placed the box on the ground, and removed its lid. She gasped at what she saw. Inside the case was a sword placed within a sheath, decorated beautifully. The dark red wood was elegantly carved with dancing animals, encircling each other as they ran along the length of the sheath. Tara had no idea how long it would take for someone to make that kind of detail. Everywhere she looked, there was some new thing peering out at her. A hidden tiger face, a family of lions. It completely astounded her.

"Isnt it a beauty?"

A voice from behind her made Tara jump. She turned and saw Celestia standing behind her. Celestia picked up the sword, still in its wooden holster, and examined it.

"Now this," explained Celestia. "Is from a long time ago. Roughly, about one thousand years ago. This was made by some blacksmith in Japan, whose name has been lost to time. It was actually found by me back in the ninety's. This beauty survived a flood, and I found it in wreckage along the beach. It was practically unharmed. So I took it back with me. There's not much use for it now, but I like to keep it around for decoration." She unsheathed the blade, revealing it to the light for the first time in years. Time had been kind to it, as it looked almost brand new. Tara was stunned by the beauty of its craftsmanship.

"It's kind of weird to see it placed here," sighed Tara.

"What do you mean by that?" Celestia questioned her.

"Well," said Tara, trying to explain herself. "It's just that looks so beautiful, and yet you put here next to all this death. It just doesn't really seem like it deserves to be here." Celestia sighed.

"You know," she said sadly. "Sometimes I wonder that too. When you're in this business, you see a lot of death. A lot of good people dying for a good cause. But it's all so brutal. Back when this sword was made, death used to have some honor to it. To die by a blade was the considered the best way to go. You were guaranteed a place in heaven for your courage and your heart. But not anymore." By this point, Celestia was more talking to herself than to Tara, but Tara was still following along with every word. Celestia the handed the sword over to Tara, who nervously accepted it. The blade was thirty inches long, yet was surprisingly light in her hands. She even took a few practice swings with it. She firmly held it in her hands. Compared to the other weapons hung from the wall, the sword was like the Mona Lisa. Celestia started to walk away from the girl, but stopped and turned back around.

"By the way," Celestia said. "I notice you're having trouble handling a weapon. Think of it like this: for every man you may strike down, a hundred more lives will be saved. Families will stay together, and great heartbreak will be avoided. Think of it as the beauty in death. When you are in this business, it's the one thing that'll keep you going."

And with that, Celestia left Tara to her own devices. And yet, Tara continued to hold the blade in her hands, mulling over Celestia's words in her head.

_Beauty in death_, thought Tara, gazing at the blade. _Beauty in death._

* * *

Despite being the cover for a massive drug operation, and being the headquarters of one of the world's most dangerous terrorists, one could not say that 63 Worthington Street looked well protected. Of course, it housed many criminals and murderers alike, but none of them were ever left to actually guard the building.

"If we put a shit ton of guards out here," once spoke Discord in a speech to his men. "Then we're not really livin' on the edge. Chaos, boys. If we don't uphold it, then no one will."

However, several men had taken it upon themselves to stand guard outside of the building, just in case trouble arose. It was a simple setup. Two men stood by the doors, weapons concealed in case of cops suddenly showing up, and two snipers located on the roofs of the buildings from across the street. With their eyes sharply locked on the doorway, no one stood a chance of getting by them. Although the night was cold, the men had no trouble entertaining themselves. This was due to the many young ladies who happened to pass by the building every evening. Staring at the young beauties could occupy the men for hours. But tonight was cold, and few women passed by the building at the late hour. Still, the men hoped to be entertained tonight, and soon, something unusual happened. It was a combination of all the right things. Her violet hair brilliantly flowing behind her, the dark red lipstick, the black eyeshadow, the rather light amount of clothing she decided to wear. They should have thought it unusual that someone would be wearing incredibly small shorts, an expensive purse, and a very low cut top in the current weather, but they didn't care. All they could focus on was the barely-legal teen strutting by them.

"Damn, girl, you're looking pretty fine!" called one guard out to her.

"Hell yeah, baby!" called out the other guard. The stunning girl smiled at them, and then blew them each a kiss, followed by a wink. As she was walking away from them, the guards went back to their job of waiting for trouble. But trouble found someone else. A figure wearing a black hoodie was approaching from the opposite direction. Without warning, she burst into a full sprint, knocked over the violet haired girl, and snatched her purse. As the girl fell over, she let out a yelp. The guards noticed her predicament, and without truly thinking, one of the guards pulled out his gun and shot the assailant in the back. While it didn't seem natural to him to help people, he felt like he would do anything for the beauty that had caught his eye. The robber let out a cry and collapsed to the ground, the purse rolling onto the floor. After a brief pause, the men raced over to help the beauty to her feet. As they helped her, she immediately hugged one guard very tightly.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she shouted as she clutched the man tightly. He felt as if he was in heaven, having such a lovely lady pressed so tightly against him. The other guard ran over to the robber's body. He pulled back the hood, letting a multi-colored mess of hair fall to the ground. He noticed that she was groaning.

"Hey," he shouted to his friend still being crushed in a tight grip. "This bitch is still alive. What do we do with her?" The other guard thought about this.

"How about we send her up to Discord? That'll teach this cunt not to mess with the beautiful ladies of the city." The other guard chuckled at the thought. He grabbed onto her limp body, and carried her to the entrance of the building. He opened the door, and tossed her inside. Three more guards stared at the body now lying before them.

"Take her to Discord," simply said the man, not wanting to spend another moment away from the girl outside. The men simply nodded, and began to drag her body deeper into the building. The guard returned to his friend.

"Don't worry," he said, trying to act heroic. "That bitch will be taken care of." The girl smiled kindly at him.

"Oh, thank you ever so much," she said happily. "You two are the best gentlemen I've ever seen." She pressed her chest into the other man, making him feel very comfortable.

"Oh, anything for a lady like you," he said nonchalantly. Suddenly the girl started to rub circles on his chest sensually, as a sly smile spread on her face. The two men looked at each other, wondering if what they actually thought was happening, was in fact reality.

"You know," she shyly said, drawing the men in. "Since you two did so much to help me, I think I should find a proper way to… _repay_ you." She giggled softly to herself; the sexual tension so thick that it could be cut with a knife. The two men grew giant grins on their faces, as the girl removed herself from the grip of the man, and beckoned them to follow her into an alley way. They eagerly followed her into the dark alley, thinking of all the possibilities that awaited them. Meanwhile the snipers had been watching carefully from their vantage point, following the movements of the people below. When the men disappeared into the alley, out of sight, they turned to face one another.

"Those lucky motherfuckers," said one sniper. The other one sighed.

"How come they get the pussy and _we_ don't?" asked the other sniper, disgruntled. "I mean, we work just as hard as the-"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence, as a bullet tore through his skull in a split second. The other sniper felt one second of confusion, followed by a brief moment of panic, before he too was shot dead from afar. From two buildings over, Pinky observed their corpses from the scope of her own sniper rifle, checking to see if they were dead. After the confirmation, she realigned her sights to check into the alley way. What she witnessed was Rachel, muttering to herself about her clothing, and standing over the bodies of two unconscious guards. Pinky checked on Rachel's status over an earpiece, connecting to all members of the team.

"Everything good from down there, Rachel?" asked Pinky from over the radio. Rachel groaned in response.

"Yeah, it's fine," responded Rachel, clearly annoyed. "I can't believe I have to wear this sluttish thing. This all better be worth it, Tara."

"Don't worry," responded Tara over the earpiece. She and AJ had just finished climbing the building on which the corpses lay, and were now setting up equipment. They were careful to avoid stepping in the remains that now were splattered over the roof. It made Tara feel rather uncomfortable, although AJ didn't seem to mind. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen gore before. "Phase One of the operation is a success, ladies. Now, Fiona, are you ready?"

"Uh… yeah," responded a soft voice over the radio. "I think so…"

"Good," said Tara, watching AJ set up a powerful weapon that AJ had brought along with her. It wasn't entirely unfair though, as Tara did bring along her own little surprise, as well.

"Let Phase Two commence."

* * *

As she was being dragged around the building, Dash opened her eyes and took a look around. The force of the bullet stung, but she could live with. After all, she could have forgotten to put the Kevlar vest under her jacket. But she was fine, which was unaware to the guards as they moved her to a staircase. She was in a large, open lobby, surrounded by men busy working. Some of them were walking around with guns as a small security force. Others were beating someone to death in the corner, as they stomped around in a pool of blood. But most people were standing around four large tables placed along the left wall. Large piles of white powder were covering the tables, as men were scraping bits off and shoveling them into bags, before throwing them into the corner of the room.

_Heh_, thought Dash. _Pinky would love it here._

Eventually, the criminals came to a main stairwell, and dragged Dash along up the stairs, which she could not say was a comfortable feeling. She felt each step bang against her chest and legs, but she sucked up the pain and told herself to quit being so pathetic. They were now on the second story, which was actually the second highest floor, as the building was rather short in height. This floor contained many large generators, all of which completed goals that Dash didn't even know existed. The many cables all ran to a set of monitors at the end of the room. Several men were looking over the monitors, carefully checking over the many items listed on the screens. All of the drug shipments, assassination contracts, political records and more were being scrolled through methodically, making sure everything was in perfect order. Eventually, Dash was dragged to a simple wooden door next to the monitors, which led to a small stairwell. After being forced up more steps, Dash eventually came to Discord's chambers.

And what bizarre chambers they were.

A long red carpet had been laid out from the door, leading to a large rocking chair. Discord sat comfortably on his chair, twirling his gun on his finger, more occupied with doing tricks than the girl being dragged before him. The rest of the room was empty, save for Lloyd and Clyde, who were having a deep conversation about the most recent murders they had committed. Two of the guards left, as one stood beside Dash, and held up her head for Discord to see.

"Lord Discord," said the guard. "We have a new play thing for you." Discord sat up from his chair and walked towards Dash, creepily smiling at her.

"Here," Dash muttered. Discord rolled his eyes.

"Of course you're _here_," said Discord. "You've done something very bad. We're going to have to punish you." He spoke as if he were scolding a small child, saying each word very clearly so that Dash would understand. "Now, we're going to play a little game. Do you like games?"

"Here," Dash repeated. She really just wanted to punch Discord in the face, but she knew she had to follow through with the plan. All she could do was get the message across to the others as she bided her time. So for now, she continued to play near-dead, pretending that she was wavering out of consciousness. To her, the acting was phenomenal, and Discord didn't seem to notice anything. He ignored her comments, though, and continued on.

"We're going to play a fun game," Discord began. "First, I'm going to cut all of your limbs off. Then, I'm going to dump you into boiling water, to clean up that pretty little face of yours. And after that lovely display, I will slowly cut a-"

Discord paused. Something about the girl in front of him sparked a memory in his mind. She looked extremely similar, although he did not know why. He felt like he had seen her somewhere before. But where? He grabbed her face tightly and examined it, taking in the details. Her eyes, her teeth, her hair, her voice. Everything felt so familiar.

Then it hit him. Two memories at once. The first was of the girl's face. He _had_ seen her before. In fact, it had been just this morning that he saw her. She was driving the car that was chasing his men today, and he nearly killed her. Nearly. She had barely escaped with her life, due to a weapon malfunction. And now, she was kneeling right in front of him, trying to stay alive.

The second memory was more troubling. It was a message from his boss, a warning about a group of girls that were investigating the many acts of terrorism that he helped commit. He put two and two together, and came to a very nasty conclusion. He angrily turned towards the guard.

"You brought her in here?" he snarled. The guard was confused, seeing no problem with Dash being present in the building. Without allowing time for the guard to respond, Discord took aim and killed his guard with a quick shot to the head. And after a brief look at Dash, he shot her point blank in the chest. The force of the gunshot sent her flying backwards. She screamed, but her cry faded as her body grew limp. She stopped moving entirely, as Discord turned to yell at Lloyd and Clyde.

"If she's here," he explained. "Then the others may not be far behind. We need to get this place fucking locked down! There's no telling wher-"

_**BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM**_

A sudden explosion rocked the building, sending its occupants to the ground. A sense of panic flew through the criminals, unsure of what to do. As panic spread throughout the building, Discord realized that he had to have been tracked back to the base.

"FUCK!" he shouted. He pulled out his gun and moved towards his chair at the back of the room. "Man, the boss isn't going to be happy about this…"

_Boss_, thought Dash, who, despite a stinging pain in her chest and loud explosions shaking the building, was able to focus on Discord's words very clearly. _Who the fuck is he talking about?_

* * *

Phase Two was going perfectly. After Dash had confirmed that Discord was in the building, AJ started to launch rockets from an RPG at the target. No one necessarily had to die, but any casualties would not be regretted. As AJ continued to fire her massive RPG, Pinky took the careful time to ensure that no one left the building. Anyone who got close to the doors would be instantly shot dead. This fear immediately caused the entire central base to be locked down from the outside. And, while Pinky guaranteed that no one tried to leave, she also helped provide ample cover for Fiona and Tara to enter.

Ever since she looked at the schematics for Discord's base, Tara knew it had to be linked to a major operating network. It was located directly next to a power hub, and she knew that Discord controlled a massive criminal operation. So, once she knew that she could cripple the entire crime organization from a single computer, she thought of the perfect solution: Fiona.

Now, as Fiona raced past the many gangsters on her way to the second floor, she tried her best not to be seen. It wasn't particularly challenging. She had avoided people's attention for most of her life, and it also helped that most of the criminals were so scared by the rapid explosions that they weren't even attempting to shoot at her. She easily raced her way up the stairs and dashed to the other end of the hall, where the large computer monitors were hanging against the wall. She looked around as she ran, hoping that no one would see her. It appeared that most people had escaped to the bottom floor in chaos, although some of the more unfortunate criminals were discarded on the floor. She tried her best not to look at the corpses as she reached the monitors. She followed Tara's instructions, and pulled a flash drive out of her back pocket.

"Remember," Tara had said to her. "All you have to do is plug the flash drive into the hardware and upload the file. The virus should take care of everything from there."

Fiona felt a surge of accomplishment when she prepared to plug the flash drive into the computer. But then, she froze. There was no hard drive, or processing unit, or anything else near the monitors. She gulped as she turned round to face the thirty or so machines placed all around the room.

And she realized she had no idea where she was supposed to plug in the virus.

* * *

Dash kept her eyes shut, to best keep up the illusion of her demise. All she could use were her ears, a process which was constantly interrupted by AJ's RPG. From what she could tell, Discord had retreated to his self-made throne, while Clyde and Lloyd were quickly moving about the room, perhaps in a state of deep panic. Currently, Lloyd had his back pressed to the only door in the room, while Clyde was running around searching for a weapon. All he had was a small knife, and he knew that wouldn't be enough to stop a rocket from striking him in the chest.

"Aren't you gonna help me find shit, man?!" Clyde shouted out to his friend. Lloyd was refusing to move, using the door as a safety blanket to protect him from harm.

"Fuck you, Clyde!" Lloyd shouted back, as another explosion rocked the building. He could hear the screams coming from the gangsters down beneath him. "Every man for himself!"

"You piece of fat piece of shit!" yelled Clyde, desperately running around the room, searching for anything. But the room was bare, save for the rocking chair that was specifically saved for Discord.

"I'm just being reasonable, you asshole!" retorted Lloyd, who thought he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Reasonable?"

"Yeah!" said Lloyd confidently. "I can't wait for you to get blown to pieces! I'll watch you fucking burn! And then, when you're nice and extra fucking crispy, I'll walk over your fucking corpse, and get the FUCK OUTTA HERE! WHAT DO YA THINK OF THAT, YOU GOD DAMN, PIECE OF SHIT?!"

_SHNK_

Both men froze. Clyde kept staring at Lloyd on shock, unable to think. Lloyd slowly looked down at his own body. A long sword had been shoved through his back, and was now sticking at least a foot out of his chest. Crimson blood poured out of the wound. He didn't feel any pain, just an empty numbness. He looked back up at Clyde, before the blade was retracted from his body, and back through the door. Lloyd died before he ever hit the ground. The door was kicked in, and it landed on Lloyd's body. Clyde looked up at the killer, and was surprised with what he saw.

A teenage girl, wearing a black jumpsuit, with enough pouches and spaces to hold enough equipment to kill every single person in the building. By her side, she was holding a thirty inch-long sword, and she was glaring at him from beneath her bright pink bangs. She raised her sword towards him.

"Get on the ground. Now," she commanded. Clyde didn't listen, being too dumbfounded with what was happening before him.

"What…the…fuck," he muttered to himself.

"I said, GET. ON. THE. GROUND." She started to approach him with the blade outstretched, still covered in Lloyd's blood. Clyde took out his knife instead, and got in a fighting stance. He growled.

"You killed Lloyd, you little bitch," he spat at her. "You want to have a knife fight; I'll show you a fucking knife fight!"

He charged at her fast, and Tara had to quickly roll out of the way. She recovered, and took a swing with her blade. Clyde managed to step back, avoiding the sword. He countered by lunging the knife forward, but Tara sidestepped the attack, and elbowed him hard in the face. The impact caused him to release the knife, sending it sliding on the ground towards Dash. A fist flew up and struck Tara hard in the chest, knocking her off her balance. Clyde then tackled her to the ground, and shoved his fists towards her throat, blocking off her airway. He started to choke her, and he could feel her struggling beneath his own weight. For a brief moment, he was happy. Then, a knife was plunged into the back of his neck, causing him to lose all feeling. Dash shoved him off of Tara, and then proceeded to stab him repeatedly in the chest, as blood spurted from his wounds. Dash plunged the knife into his chest one final time, burying it in his heart. She helped Tara to her feet.

"Thanks," Tara breathed out.

"Thank Kevlar," Dash replied. The two turned towards the rocking chair, ready to fight Discord. But he wasn't there. In fact, the room seemed to be completely empty.

"Where is he?" asked Tara to her colleague. Dash shrugged.

"I don't know, Spark. He was here a minute ago."

The duo walked around the room, searching for Discord. But he was nowhere to be found. Instead, Tara discovered something interesting in the back wall. There was a small gap between the back wall and the corner of the room, just small enough for someone to squeeze through. Tara called Dash over, and the two managed to force their way through the gap in the wall. What they managed to find was a small room, only about ten feet wide. The room smelled of death, and it was no wonder why. Lying before them was the guard that had brought Dash up to Discord's chamber. Although now, multiple knife wounds were located all over his body. Tara noticed a panel in the floor, which she realized must have been a secret exit out of the building. However, she didn't focus on that for long Instead, she and Dash were both looking at the wall, where a message had been painted using the guard's own blood.

_Fear The Unknown, for he does not fear you._

"What the fuck do you think that means?" asked Dash. Tara herself had no idea, and simply shrugged in response. The chaos was finally dying down, and Tara realized that the noise had finally attracted the attention of the cops. Tara simply hoped that the cops in question were at least honest enough to keep the Smiling Dragons under arrest.

"It doesn't matter," Tara said, sheathing her sword. "Discord may be gone, but at least we put a halt to his crime organization. We're done here."

"Uh, Tara," came a low voice over the radio.

"Yeah, Fiona?"

"This might sound bad, but… where do I plug in the flash drive?"

* * *

It was almost an hour later when the girls finally returned to the base, but it was a joyous trip home. They had managed to avoid the police, take out a major drug shipment, and cause the arrest of about one hundred criminals, all in one night. The walk back to the base consisted of stories told from each girl's perspective, compliments of the others' acts, and, especially, congratulating Tara for her masterful plan. The girls had finally seemed to be getting on good terms with one another. Even Dash was talking to Rachel about their stellar acting abilities, and Tara had actually thought that things may not end up so horribly. AJ had renewed faith in the team as well, believing that if all operations were as successful as the one tonight, they could actually be quite a functional group. At last, the girls finally reached the base, gleeful that their long day was over. As the girls entered the base, Tara spoke up about something she had been mulling over for the past hour.

"Camelot," she said. The other girls looked at her, confused. "I think we should name the base 'Camelot'. The peaceful, orderly place in times of great distress. I think it fits quite nicely."

And so, it was decided that the name of the base shall forever be referred to as Camelot, and as the girls reached the door to their sleeping quarters, they believed the day could not get better.

They opened the door, and found Celestia waiting for them, an angry look on her face.

"You could have gotten yourselves killed," Celestia sternly stated, glaring at the girls, who were now shocked at this announcement.

"You… you knew?" asked Fiona nervously.

"Of course, I knew," Celestia said, almost offended. "What do you take me for? An idiot? I've been tracking your movements all night."

The P.O.N.Y's didn't know what to say. They had honestly thought that no one knew what they had done tonight.

"You caused mass destruction, fought a terrorist, all with little-to-no experience whatsoever, I might add, and you thought you could fool me? That is _shameful_, not to mention all of the government funded equipment you wasted, including that virus, which took years of research to develop. We should immediately shut you down for this."

Tara had never felt such shame. She felt as if she let everyone down. She failed as a leader. She failed as a soldier. And most importantly, she failed as a friend. Celestia sighed.

"But," she added, her voice becoming softer. "You also took down one of the biggest crime lords in the world, _while_ having little-to-no experience, and having no idea what you were doing. You did in one day what could have taken us _years_ to do. And you proved to not only be incredibly valuable, but incredibly talented at what you do. And I suppose for that, you're off the hook."

An instant wave of relief washed over the girls, long with a sense of satisfaction. Even Celestia managed to smile briefly, but she soon returned to a more serious tone.

"But there is one thing we need to discuss," she said. The girls to her. "When I was listening in on your earpieces, I heard Discord mention something about his 'boss'. And apparently, he left some message about the 'Unknown'."

"So," questioned Tara, unsure of where Celestia was headed.

"So," Celestia finished. "We thought Discord was a lone wolf, just a random blip on the radar. But now, it appears that there might be much more to this than we think. He might be working for someone, someone powerful enough to control one of the world's greatest criminal enterprises. And whoever this…'Unknown' is, if Discord is willing to serve him, he may be a much bigger threat than we can imagine."

On that somber note, she stood up, and walked out of the room. But before she left, she added,

"Enjoy tonight's victory, girls," she said with a half-smile. "And get some rest. God knows you'll need it." And with that, she retreated to her chambers, leaving the girls alone for the night.

* * *

"You failed," said the highest member of the council. Discord felt annoyed with himself. He wasn't one to take things seriously, but he knew that he really wanted to join up with the other members of the council. They were the real deal to him.

"It won't happen again, boss," Discord said, somberly.

"Of course, it _shouldn't_," said the high councilman. "I should just let Sombra here tear you limb from limb." Sombra smirked.

"The King likes this idea," Sombra said with a chuckle, taking another puff of his cigar.

"Come one, give me another chance to prove myself," Discord pleaded. "I know just how to take care of 'em. Those men doin my drug work, they weren't really loyal to me. They were mostly just in it for the cash. But my true soldiers, now, _those_ are some special guys."

"Ha!" laughed Sombra. "You know that even one _hundred_ of your best men could not defeat someone like me. The King, in fact, is worth more than all of your men _combined_."

"Now, now, Sombra," said Chrysalis. "I say give him a shot. He can't do any _worse_. Besides, no reason to waste our power when someone like _him_ will do it for free."

"Excellent point, Chrysalis," said the leader of the villainous group. "Okay, Discord, one last chance. Don't fuck it up."

"Yes, sir," bowed Discord. "Once you see my Hound Dog Unit in action, you won't need any substitute."

"Oh, and one last thing," said the councilman. "That thing you wrote on the wall in your base. The 'Unknown'. Why did you write that?"

"Oh," said Discord. "I thought that you needed a name that people remembered, people were scared of, something that embodied the true feeling of terror. And what is more terrifying than what people don't know about, my good sir?"

"I like it," spoke Moon. "It has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Besides, _we_ don't know your real name. You need an alias, at least for common purposes."

The head of the council considered this, and then finally agreed.

"If you all wish that to be my new name, then _fine_," the councilman spoke. "Discord, go and prove yourself. After all, the people _do_ need to realize that The Unknown is worth fearing."

**End of Chapter 2**


	4. Chapter 3: Inner Demons

******Note: If anything in the following story is worth noting, positive or negative, good or bad, leave a comment about via review. If every person who read this sentence left a review, the impact would be incredible. We at GodSaveTheKings greatly appreciate feedback, as it substantially helps with the writing process. So please, make your voice heard.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Inner Demons**

**Part 1 of 2: The Monster Who Sought Hate**

**October 11th, 2015**

"I said, get on the ground! You're completely surrounded!" shouted Police Sargent McCoy, who had his gun trained on his enemy. There was not much of a police force in his town, but they had funneled all they could into catching the target. And what a target he was. A mass murderer, who had been on an unstoppable killing spree for the past week, was finally in their sights, just an hour before midnight. Every time they got close, he had always managed to slip away just before they found him. This man had also been responsible for the deaths of five cops, who McCoy had happened to know rather well. But now, police cars surrounded the man on every side, blocking of his escape, and roughly 20 cops had their guns pointed at him. The man, however, didn't try to run. Instead, he stood calmly in the center of the cops, none of which dared to approach him. McCoy took a long look at the man who was causing the town so much difficulty. He wore dark clothing, which included a long black trench coat, coming to a stop just above his feet. His goatee neatly was neatly groomed, and his black hair was combed into place. He almost looked charming for a homicidal maniac, and if a bystander were to pass by, they would think nothing wrong of him. Unless, of course, they were to look at what he was holding. In his hand was a long, black sword, extravagantly detailed with Japanese characters, which proved the sword of its worth.

"What are you waiting for?" the man called out to McCoy, who tightened his grip on his weapon. His voice wasn't wavering, and it was almost as if he was prompting the cops to shoot at him.

"Why should we waste our bullets on someone like you?" McCoy taunted. The man simply smiled back at him, and chuckled to himself.

"You shouldn't be underestimating me, Sargent," said the man, with confidence in his voice. "If you were wise, you'd take me down now, before something bad happens." McCoy smiled back at him.

"You're surrounded," he stated. "Besides, I'd much rather see you rot in a cell for the rest of your life." Then he called out to the cop standing next to him. "Bucky, cuff him already."

But Bucky looked incredibly nervous about moving towards. "But… what if he attacks me?"

"We've got our sights trained on him," assured McCoy. "He aint moving unless we want him to."

Nervously, Bucky stepped out from behind the cover of the car, and slowly walked towards the murderer. As he approached, he slowly took out his handcuffs, and gestured towards the man.

"P-put your h-hands in the a-air," Bucky said, unable to hide the fear in his voice. Bucky knew full well that this man had managed to take out five cops and kill twelve innocent civilians. There was no telling what he could do. The man sighed to himself, and then, much to Bucky's relief, put his hands in the air, despite actually never releasing the sword. His hands were held high above his head, and Bucky felt a sigh of relief, and a burst of confidence. Maybe, he realized, this man wasn't so much of a threat. Or maybe he was, but the cool, confident, charmingly handsome Bucky managed to put the man in handcuffs, and drag him to the big house. Then, Bucky felt the strangest feeling. He saw the man smile at him, before he felt as if something had passed through him, like a ghost.

_That's a funny feeling,_ Bucky thought to himself.

Then everything turned black, as his head rolled off his shoulders, and fell to the ground with a thud.

"FIRE!"

The police immediately opened fire onto the man, except he was no longer there. Where what once stood a confident swordsman with eighteen murders hanging over him, was now a cloud of black smoke. McCoy looked around for any signs of the man. Then he heard screaming, as a black puff of smoke appeared behind a cop, and a sword immediately sliced through his body. The cops opened fire again, but now more screams of panic echoed around them, as more bodies fell to the ground. McCoy looked around him trying to keep up with the screams and gunshots, but all he could see was smoke. He would occasionally see the man cutting through a cop, before instantly vanishing in more smoke. The screams grew more, and panic spread, before it was suddenly and instantly silenced. Everything stopped around McCoy, and he nervously looked around. He saw bodies all around him, limbs tossed about the ground, and with a startling realization, he knew that everyone was dead.

Everyone, except for him.

"What the…."he stuttered, seeing all of the violence around him. He was very much afraid for his life. He spoke to himself, "How the fuck did he do that?"

"How indeed…" came a voice from behind him. He spun around to face the man, and was immediately greeted with a sword through his chest. Blood started to pour from his mouth, and he realized what had happened to him. He had never even heard the man coming from behind him. He noticed the strange black smoke that was dissipating around the man. McCoy looked at the man's face. He was grinning with pride, as he examined his work. His eyes were strange, as a deep, orange hue seemed to emanate from them, casting a small glow over his face. There was emptiness to them, and McCoy could feel the hate pouring off of this man. The sword itself was now glowing too, the characters cast in the same orange hue, now that they had been drenched in blood. McCoy looked deep into the man's eyes as he struggled for his final breaths.

"You're… you're the fucking _devil,_ aren't you," he managed to breathe out as he felt his consciousness fading. The man chuckled at the comment.

"Oh, Sargent," he said with a smile. "I thought I told you not to underestimate me."

* * *

**October 12th, 2015**

Fiona awoke in a cold sweat. She looked around her, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. She was in her sleeping quarters, with the rest of her teammates. Their beds were built into the walls, in two stacks of three, and Fiona had the unlucky fortune of being stuck in the middle of her column. She was constantly greeted with sounds from Dash snoring beneath her, and Rachel talking in her sleep above her. But it wasn't so terrible, as she had the privilege to be across from her best friend, who, at this time, was in a deep sleep. At the very least, it gave her a direct line of contact with Tara, but she couldn't take advantage of it now that the other girl was sleeping. She also saw AJ, who had now taken residence with the other girls in order to better improve their relationships. Each of them made their own unusual sleeping sound. But, out of all of the sounds that these girls unknowingly made during their slumber, none of them had woken her up. The actual cause was a rather troublesome nightmare that she had been dealing with.

_It must be that time of year again,_ Fiona thought, somberly.

How long had it been? Five, maybe six years? She had lost count, and she opted not to think of it. She knew that she could not go back to sleep, as her dreams would stalk her there, and never seem to leave her alone. Instead, she decided to think of the week's events and what was to come, in order to soothe her thoughts.

The past seven days had shown remarkable improvement for the entire team. Everyone had begun to properly pick up the tools of the trade, and under Tara's strong, intelligent leadership, everybody learned much faster. Fiona had still refused to use a gun, but in turn, her hand-to-hand combat improved drastically. She was a quick learner, and she actually felt like she was accomplishing something. Of course, the other team members were picking up new talents as well, most notably being Tara's swordsmanship abilities. It was almost unfortunate, then, that crime had dropped rapidly. Due to the takedown of Discord's major operation, his gang activities had practically ceased. In order to keep in practice, Wilson had decided to send the girls off investigating murders and robberies around the cities, all of which were missions that had been met with great success. The girls' moral boosted dramatically, and they started to become more comfortable with each other's presence. Dash had complained less, AJ began acting more like a normal girl of her own age, and Rachel had ceased trying to give Fiona a makeover. The only dramatic change that had not truly occurred in was Pinky, which Fiona assumed was because of her supposed drug problem. In truth, the weeks ahead looked to much less chaotic, and this thought calmed Fiona a great deal. She shut he eyes again, and started to feel a mesmerizing twilight as she felt herself drifting away from consicousness.

_Maybe I actually will get some sleep for once_, Fiona thought happily, as her thoughts faded away.

**_WAAAAAAAH WAAAAAAAH WAAAAAAAH WAAAAAAAH WAAAAAAAH_**

Fiona's eyes shot open, as the alarms blared in the room, signaling for the girls to start the day. Fiona groaned, and shoved her head into her pillow.

_Or maybe not,_ Fiona thought with discontent, as the other girls stirred around her. Tara nudged her shy friend.

"Come on, Fiona," Tara said. "Time to get up. We got a busy day of training ahead of us." Fiona begrudgingly got out of her bunk, changed into her exercise clothes with the rest of the girls, and headed out to the training area.

"Damn," moaned AJ. "I don't remember those alarms being so loud."

"Oh, I asked if the volume could be increased on the alarms," said Tara happily. Dash was quite upset with this, even more than AJ was.

"What the fuck, Spark," Dash said, annoyed. Tara shrugged.

"It helps to get you moving faster," Tara stated factually, and then added, "And don't call me Spark. I'm the leader, and you could _try_ to treat me with a little more respect."

"I could have called you a stubborn bitch," said Dash under her breath. Tara heard this remark, and soon, a sharp battle of tongues occurred between the girls, which lasted throughout the training session. By ten o'clock, after seven hours of nonstop arguments, Fiona had heard enough of the banter, and honestly just wanted the day to end. But soon, Wilson and Celestia called the girls for a mission assignment. As they changed into more proper street attire, Fiona became secretly glad that Celestia let them borrow some money for clothes shopping. It allowed Fiona to get some hoodies once again, and she was very glad for this, as she felt naked with her face being exposed for all to see. In all honesty, she believed that the less attention she received, the better.

After a long wait for Rachel to get changed (she took nearly forty minutes to pick out an outfit, before Dash tackled her to the ground, and forced Rachel into some clothes, much to the discontent of the violet-haired girl), the girls arrived in the Briefing Room, with all of its computers and data storage.

"P.O.N.Y's," Wilson said with some chipper in his voice. "You're all going on a field trip." The girls were slightly confused with this news, except for Pinky, who happily hopped up and down.

"YAAAAAAAAAY!" she shouted with ecstatic glee. "Where are we going? Disney World? The Bahamas? CANADA?!"

"West Virginia," said Celestia, unenthused. "You're going to be investigating a series of murders occurring west of Charleston. It is of the highest importance."

"If I may ask," said AJ. "What's so important about these crimes that they need us? I don't mean no disrespect, but there are plenty of cases we could be covering here. Can't these guys just use the local police?"

"The police are mostly dead," responded Celestia, grimly. "Over thirty of them have been killed by this assailant. And they've all been killed in the same way: chopped to pieces by a sword. No firearms were involved."

"Not to mention that several witnesses reported seeing things of supernatural origin," added the General. "And according to some stories, he survived a police ambush all by himself, using just a blade. I very much doubt that these reports are true, but still, it's worth looking into, just to see who could be behind these murders."

"Not to mention, this could have something to do with Discord's boss," Tara sharply added.

"Correct," said Celestia. "So, your mission is to travel to Haddonfield, and discover the cause of these criminal acts. Transportation has been provi-"

"Wait," came a small voice from the back of the group. They turned to look at Fiona, who looked shocked. She didn't even notice that the others were staring at her, as she was trying to make sure she heard Celestia correctly. "Did… did you just say… 'Haddonfield'?"

"Yes, yes I did," confirmed Celestia. Fiona seemed to grow more fearful with this confirmation. Tara, concerned for her friend, tried to comfort find out what was troubling her.

"What's wrong, Fiona?" asked Tara. Fiona gulped.

"It's…it's just that," Fiona had trouble saying what she wanted to. To be honest, she even had difficulty knowing what should be said. "I… I grew up in Haddonfield."

Tara was immediately calmed by this. She figured that Fiona was simply shocked that such a series of horrible events were happening in her hometown. In due time, Tara was quite sure that her friend would be alright.

"Oh, well that's perfect, then," Tara said cheerily, trying to lighten Fiona's mood. "You can show us around. It it'll be much easier that way."

"Well, actually…" Fiona started to argue, but was cut off by General Wilson.

"Time to get a move on, girls," he stated. It's a long drive, so you'll have to find a place to rest. We've already packed your bags, and your transportation is waiting out front. Good luck." With that, the girls proceeded above ground, heading through the Chinese restaurant to see what vehicle they had been given to take the seven hour drive.

"What do you think it'll be?" asked Rachel, excitedly. "Maybe a limousine, or a luxurious cab, of sort."

"I just hope it's fast," said Dash under her breath. So, of course, the girls showed complete enthusiasm when they walked outside, and saw a large white van parked outside, which, despite being large enough to hold all of them, was not in any way spectacular in appearance or performance. The girls' mood deflated, as Dash begrudgingly accepted responsibility for driving the car. But Tara instantly refused.

"I've seen your driving, Dash," Tara stated. "I don't think you should be behind the wheel."

"That was a fucking high speed pursuit, Spark," Dash said. "My driving was completely acceptable."

"But you almost got Fiona and Pinky killed," Tara stated factually. Dash groaned.

"_Fine,_ you drive," Dash said. "Have fun for the next the seven hours." Tara climbed in the front seat, Fiona sat next to her, and the rest of the girls piling into the back. They then headed off on their long drive, as they thought of the danger ahead, and, more importantly, ways to pass the time.

Luckily for them, Pinky seemed to have no trouble with this, spending the next four hours telling stories about her life, the lives of her family members, the lives of other people she briefly met at parties, the parties that she met other people at, her likes, her dislikes, things she half-liked, things she liked to eat, candies she liked to eat, drinks she liked to drink, her immense drug problem, the theory of the multiverse, and the probability that they all actually lived in a computer simulation. Of course, by the time Pinky had reached those final three topics, Dash had tuned out all of the details into a long drone that was completely impossible to comprehend, and Dash had no idea what Pinky was actually saying. But Pinky didn't seem to notice, and she continued to talk in an endless loop. In the front of the car, however, Tara attempted to start a conversation with Fiona.

"So, I was thinking," started Tara. "If we are going to your hometown, why don't we stay your place?"

"No," Fiona said, a little too quickly. Tara was confused by the response.

"But," Tara asked. "Don't you want to see your family?" Fiona turned away from Tara, thinking of what to say.

"Well…no… it's just… I mean… we can't. Okay?" she stated, trying to hide her face. "I… I just don't want to talk about it now. But we _have_ to stay somewhere else."

"Um…okay," stated Tara, very confused by Fiona's behavior. "I guess if you feel that strongly about it."

Tara didn't understand Fiona's wishes. After all,Tara would kill to see her family again. It had only been just over a month, but she missed her parents a great deal. She also desperately wanted to see her brother again. She hadn't seen him in three years, except on video chats, but even then, he was halfway around the world. Ever since he was shipped off to the Middle East, she felt almost as if a wedge had been driven between her family. The pain of separation was great, and it was a feeling she wouldn't wish on anyone.

And that was when she realized what was wrong with Fiona. She could see it in her eyes. Fiona was afraid of telling her family about what had happened, what she was currently doing, and who she was doing it with. She noticed how relaxed Fiona became when she found out she wasn't seeing her family. She had even said, 'I don't want to talk about it now'. And Tara was positive that she had solved this behavior predicament quite nicely. But she had to be one hundred percent sure.

"Fiona," Tara said softly. "I'm _sure_ your family would be proud of what you are."

Fiona said nothing to this. She simply stared into an empty spot in space, as if she were thinking about it. Then, she turned away from Tara, and looked out the window.

"Can we _please_ not talk about this now?" Fiona pleaded, not looking away from the window. Tara simply nodded, and focused on the road ahead of her. She knew Fiona would eventually feel brave enough to discuss everything with her. It was only a matter of time. And now, they continued on their long drive, as storm clouds loomed over the horizon.

* * *

When they finally arrived in Haddonfield, it was nearly nine o'clock. Fiona had alerted them to the presence of a motel near the center of town. As Tara drove through the streets, she noticed the lack of people walking around, leaving an eerie stillness in the air. When they did finally arrive at the small motel, they realized there was a small problem: they would have to share rooms. It wasn't a large issue, as they had been sleeping in the same vicinity for a while now, but they did need to find roommates they were comfortable with. It didn't take long, however for the girls to bunk up with each other.

And almost immediately, AJ regretted pairing up with Rachel. Fiona and Tara had already gotten a room, so she assumed that Rachel would be the most courteous, least bothersome roommate. Unfortunately for her, she had no idea about Rachel's extensive "before-sleep ritual".

And what a ritual it was.

"How can I possibly sleep in these conditions?" Rachel complained while looking around the room. The rooms were quite simple, having a large bed placed against the center of the wall, and a small bathroom and closet located on the far end of the room. It was nothing spectacular, and that was Rachel's problem. AJ moaned as Rachel lied on the bed, and tried to get comfortable.

"This mattress is hard as bricks," Rachel said as she tossed and turned. AJ lied down on the floor at the foot of the bed, and started to drift into slumber, ignoring Rachel's complaints. Sometimes it helped to be trained to sleep anywhere, and through anything. And at this time, she was very happy for this ability.

Meanwhile, Pinky was running into a similar problem with the bed's consistency. She was attempting to jump up and down on the bed, but she was very disappointed with her bounce quality. Dash stood idly by, watching as Pinky tried different bouncing techniques to get the optimum performance. But alas, it was a futile effort, and she laid down on the bed, defeated.

"Man, this sucks," Pinky said, as Dash flopped on the bed besides her.

"Well, it's no problem for me," Dash said with a smirk. "I'm used to lying down on hard things." Pinky simply stared at her, completely missing the joke. Dash sighed.

"Sex," Dash said simply. "It's a sex joke."

"Ohhhhhhhh," Pinky nodded. Then she paused. "I still don't get it."

"Forget it," said Dash, who now shut her eyes to try to get to sleep.

Meanwhile, things were much calmer in Tara's room, however. This was primarily due to the fact that she understood her roommate. But despite this, they were currently arguing about a very trivial subject.

"You should have the bed," Fiona reasoned. Tara rolled her eyes, as she tried to get her point across for the fifth time.

"Fiona, I wouldn't feel right letting you sleep on the floor," Tara said.

"But you're the leader," Fiona argued, or at least the closest thing she could do to actually arguing. "You should be more comfortable than the rest of us."

"Being a leader means putting others before yourself," Tara stated factually. "So that means that you should sleep in dang bed. Besides, it's your town; you should at least be comfortable in it."

"But-"

"Just get in the bed already, Fiona," Tara said stubbornly. "That's an order." Fiona sighed and crawled into the bed, as Tara tried to make herself comfortable on the floor. Luckily for her, Fiona had given her the pillows and one of the blankets, making Tara much more comfortable. "Jeez, Fiona, sometimes your too nice for your own good."

"Sorry," Fiona said softly. "Anyway, good night, Tara."

"Good night," came the response from the floor. Fiona smiled at to herself at the laziness of Tara's words, and drifted off into sleep.

* * *

As Malcom Witcherson's upper body hit the floor, while his lower body continued to stand very much in place, his wife, Danielle, screamed. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the corpse of the man she used to love so much. But now he was dead, cut down by a shimmering black sword. The man with the orange eyes sighed.

"I thought he was a former boxer," he said with discontent. "That was supposed to be much harder."

Danielle didn't understand his words, as the hate was flowing through her with such strength that everything became white noise. She looked around the kitchen for something, anything she could use to defend herself. Her luck came in the form of a pot she had left on the stove from the night's dinner. Without hesitation, she picked up the pot and threw it at the man. But before it struck him, a cloud of black smoke appeared, and he was gone. The pot sailed through the smoke and landed on the floor behind it. Danielle didn't understand what had happened. She looked at the black smoke, trying to see what happened to the man. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around her head from behind, and a blade was brought up to her throat.

"I told you not to fight back," said the man, disappointment in his voice. He sounded as if he didn't want to do hurt her, but had no other choice. "Now, I guess I'm going to have to kill you too. Just in case."

And with that, he dragged the blade across her jugular, sending her blood splattering across her once beautiful home.

* * *

Fiona's eyes shot open. There was a knocking at the door. Noticing that Tara was not awake, she got up, and, silently walking across the room cautiously opened the door. She was greeted by the sight of an average looking man, with an average looking face.

"Sorry to bother you ma'am," he said somberly. "I know it's late, but this rather important."

"Uh… yes?" Fiona nervously asked him.

"It's just that there's been another set of murders around here," he said. "Myself and the other members of the neighborhood watch are on the lookout for any more signs of trouble. Have you seen any suspicious activity around here, ma'am?"

"Sorry, I haven't seen anything," said Fiona softly, trying not to wake her friend. "We've just been sleeping this whole time." The man peeked in the room and noticed another girl was lying down on the floor, sleeping through their conversation. He sighed.

"Well, I'm terribly sorry to have bothered you two ladies. If you see anything, though, make sure to report it to the neighborhood watch, ASAP," he stated. "Make sure to stay indoors, too. There's a lot of trouble around town recently."

"Um…thank you," said Fiona, unsure of how to respond to the man's advice. He took off, and she shut the door. She quietly tiptoed back into her bed, and stared at the ceiling. She was actually secretly thankful that the man showed up when he did. She had only gotten two hours of sleep, and she knew that she wouldn't get any more. She was having the same nightmare again. It always haunted her, never leaving her alone when she wanted to. And it didn't help that she was back in Haddonfield. Out of all of the crime in the world, she had to be here. She didn't get it. This was the one place she never wanted to see again. But somehow, Wilson decided to send her back here, to this hellhole of a town. Had he not known what this place had done to her? He obviously had to know, right? She knew there was no way that he knew nothing about it, so then why did he send her back? It was just a mess that she didn't want to be involved in. And then, there was Tara, trying to reason with something she didn't understand. Tara was her best friend, but there were some things that she shouldn't know. Tara didn't know about it, right? How could she have known? Unless Wilson told her. But why would he do that?

Fiona sat in the dark, endless questions cycling through her mind. All she wanted was to stop this killer, and get out of this town as fast as possible. She almost jumped out of the door to catch this criminal in the act, do anything just to leave. But she knew that this investigation might take some time, and the longer she stayed in Haddonfield, the longer she felt like she would lose her mind.

* * *

**October 13th, 2015**

When the team regrouped in the morning, Tara noticed that her friends looked very tired. Dash yawned, AJ stretched her back, Rachel rubbed her eyes, and Fiona stumbled about lazily.

"Am I the only one to get a decent night's sleep?" Tara wondered aloud.

"You try sleeping in a bed that does not follow standard chiropractic comfort standards," snapped Rachel, incredibly tired. AJ rolled her eyes.

"And y'all try sleeping in the same room as someone who sleeps on that bed," AJ moaned.

"Well, maybe I wouldn't be so bad if _someone_ didn't tear the room apart looking for their precious little hat," Rachel snapped back. Tara managed to stop the fighting, and get the girls back on track.

"Okay, calm down," Tara ordered, and Rachel and AJ started their bickering. "Alright then, according to Fiona, apparently there were more murders last night, which means that the killer is still at large. I think our best course of action on this would be to split up and search for clues. Investigate all around town and see what we can find. We'll split up into three teams. Fiona and I will search around the north part of town. AJ and Rachel-"

"NO!" shouted both girls, simultaneously. It became quite clear to Tara that these girls might not get along so well, and she made a slight alteration to her plan.

"Okay then," she stated. "AJ, go with Dash and investigate the south end of town. Rachel and Pinky, you take the west side. We all have each other's cell phone numbers, in case something comes up. We'll report back here at two. Everybody cool with that?" She was met with nods and small words of agreement. With that, she gave the order to move out, and the team started their mission.

* * *

As Fiona walked around the town, she noticed how little everything had changed. The central hub of stores was filed with people casually trolling around. A large lake was in the center of the town, with a fountain spewing water out back into the central water area. Memories came flooding back to her, every sight bringing back thoughts of older times. So Fiona looked away, keeping her eyes trained on her feet as she trudged forward. Tara was enjoying the view of the town, however, and she couldn't understand why Fiona seemed so hesitant to look around her.

"Man, this place is beautiful," Tara said, trying to press Fiona into looking up.

"I hate this place," Fiona muttered under her breath. It was a simple side comment regarding her own thoughts, something meant to be unheard by anyone else. Unfortunately for her, Tara's sharp ears managed to pick up the comment, and the girl seemed quite surprised by what she heard.

"You hate this place?" Tara questioned. Fiona's eyes went wide, as she realized her thoughts had been made public. "What's wrong about it?"

Fiona tried not to answer the question, as she turned away from Tara's questioning gaze.

"Nothing," Fiona said, trying to pass off the question. "Just forget it."

"You said you hated this place," Tara pressed on. "Why?" Fiona sighed, and gave a half-answer in response.

"Look," Fiona said shyly. "I didn't have the best time growing up here. I had some really good times here, but most of the time, it wasn't happy. I have some bad memories of this place. Let's leave it at that."

"But if you talk about it…" Tara started to argue. Fiona suddenly turned to face her, and spoke with a sense of anger that Tara had never heard before.

"Can we not talk about this now?" Fiona insisted. "Let's just find the murderer so we can le-" Fiona was cut off as she walked directly into someone. Her anger turned to guilt, and her depression turned to embarrassment, as the person turned around to face her. He was a boy roughly her age, with a dark sweater on and jet black hair that was protruding from his head at an odd angle. He looked angry that he was knocked into, as it made him spill some of his coffee, which was just freshly made. Fiona immediately began apologizing for her actions, as the boy reprimanded her.

"Hey, watch your going, you almost-" he started to yell, but then paused. He looked at Fiona for a long moment, studying her. Then, as if a buzzer went off in his head, a small smile broke out on his face, as he recognized hers. "…Fiona? Is that you?" Fiona was confused.

"Um…" Fiona started to say, but that was all the confirmation the boy needed, before he broke out into a huge grin and trapped Fiona in a crushing hug. Fiona blushed profusely at the sign of physical affection, as Tara started to giggle at the stunned look on her friend's face. Meanwhile, the boy was incredibly happy, and it showed in his hug.

"Fiona! Oh shit, I haven't seen you in _years!_" He released her from the hug, and held her shoulders. "It's me, Jacob Tarvis!" A cord of familiarity struck through Fiona. She examined his face, and found the similarities in it with someone she used to know long ago. And once her brain made such a connection, Fiona finally realized who she was talking to.

"Oh! Jacob!" she said with stark realization, and a nervous smile crept on her face. "It's good to see you again." He finally released his grip on her, allowing her to shake off the shock from physical contact.

"No shit!" he said happily. "Man, I haven't seen you since, like, the 7th Grade. How ya been?"

"Oh…fine, I guess," she replied nervously. It felt strange talking to Jacob again, especially after all of these years. It brought her a strange sense of nostalgia.

"Man, we've got to, like, catch up or something," he said happily. "Do you have a phone or something? I could give you my number, and maybe we could, like, set something up." Tara briefly interrupted, knowing that she could be of assistance.

"Just tell it to me," Tara said confidently to Jacob. "I'll remember it."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright, you say so," Jacob said as he shrugged. "Its 555-0278. Remember, 555-0278. Man, I gotta go, but's been great seeing you Fiona." He started to run away from the girls, but turned and called back. "Hope to see you again, girl!"

"Same here," Fiona said softly. She knew that he hadn't heard her, but she didn't mind. In truth, it was actually somewhat pleasant to see Jacob again, even if it did bring up a rather unpleasant memory.

"Who was that?" asked Tara happily, glad to see Fiona become a little more comfortable. Fiona wasn't quite sure how to respond, as she had many thoughts and opinions of Jacob, and she had to think of how best to describe him.

"You know how I said I had some 'good times' in this town?" Fiona said nervously. Tara nodded. "Well, I guess you say that he was one of them." A sly smile grew on Tara's face.

"So, were you two ever… you know…" Tara started to suggest. Fiona realized what Tara was trying to insinuate, and quickly waved away the thought.

"Oh no, nothing like that," Fiona said, quickly. Tara's smile didn't waver, though, and Fiona felt the need to elaborate. "It was just…well… he was one of the only real friends I've ever had. He was always there to help me out when I needed it. He was just a really good kid. That's all."

Fiona smiled at the memories from her childhood, and readjusted her hood to hide her face from Tara's smug grin. And yet, despite Fiona's hood and long pink hair blocking her view, Tara was almost positive that she saw Fiona blush.

* * *

"And so I said, 'I'm used to lying down on hard things.' That's funny, right?" Dash attempted to explain her problem to AJ. AJ snickered, not so much at Dash's horrible sexual innuendo, but rather at her reaction to it. To see Dash, someone who took great pride in her clever jokes, being shut down by someone who didn't even understand what it meant to be an adult, was rather funny. It served Dash well to get some humility, in any way which it was delivered. AJ shrugged in response to Dash, causing the rainbow-haired girl to sigh.

"What do you know, anyway?" Dash said.

"Let's just focus on the mission," AJ stated. "I'll teach you something about humor later." Dash groaned, and then looked around. They were passing by a junior high school, which was blocked off by a large field and a chain-link fence. Next to the school was an old library, which seemed to be slowly cracking apart, and then the senior high school. AJ took notice off several of the kids running around the field, part of a physical education exercise. Dash laughed at the sight.

"Man, I remember doing that shit," Dash said, thinking of her times in high school; all of the times she dominated the competition in her athletics. She was the queen bee of her school in the sports department, and it wasn't really a bad time. But compared to what she was doing now, stopping terrorists, while being able to perform extreme acts of violence with the government's consent, school seemed like a prison. Suddenly, AJ interrupted Dash's idea with a thought of her own.

"Sometimes I wish I could know what it's like," AJ said sorrowfully. "Ya know, to be one of those kids." Dash laughed at this, finding it extremely funny.

"Trust me, you're not missing much," Dash said truthfully. As they walked by the church, they passed a local priest standing outside, talking to a group of concerned people.

"I have spoken to our Lord, God," he spoke calmly. "He says the demons that haunt us now will soon pass over us. There is nothing to fear."

"How can you say that, Father?" spoke one man of the group. "The Witcherson's are dead! And they were good Christian people! What kind of cruel punishment is this?" Other members of the crowd began to speak as well, fear ever growing amongst the group.

"What if he comes for my little Billy?"

"How can God let something like this happen?"

"I fear the Devil's work, here! This killer's from Hell, I tell you!"

"What should we do, Father?"

"Yeah, what do we do?!"

"Please help us, Father!"

"Calm down, everyone. Calm down!" he said, trying to get control of the group. "Now, I know there is a lot of fear amongst us. I know it might seem frightening. But I do truly believe that if you fully accept Jesus in your heart, and pray strongly to God, then we will get through this. Haddonfield has survived many tragedies. When this town was covered with eight feet of snow in the blizzards of '96, we survived. When the town was faced with a great drought, we survived. And we _will _survive this. We have to." And with that, the crowd dissipated. As they left, many whispers were still flying around, and fear was still evident.

"I think someone's been doing some devil worship. That's the only explanation."

"I heard the killer has horns, and drinks the blood from his foes."

"What if he's right here, listening to all of this? Is he gonna come for us?"

The people passed by AJ, who had been listening to the entire session from afar, and she turned to Dash.

"What do ya think about that," AJ asked, thinking about the meeting. "Do ya really think there's some sorta ancient evil at work here."

"Nah," Dash said, nonchalantly. "These guys are just a bunch of religious freaks trying to find answers in a shitty book."

"Yeah," confirmed AJ, albeit quite quietly. "But then, what in Hell's name could it be?"

* * *

"What do you know about the murders?!"

Pinky was bouncing around the busy street, asking people the exact same question over and over again. Rachel was watching, in astonishment, the speed at which Pinky moved, taking mere seconds to ask her question, and then move on to the next person. And since they were standing in front of the movie theater, there were plenty of subjects for Pinky's words.

"Tell me everything you know! What were you doing at 11:35 last night?! I need your name, phone number, and bank account now! Don't look at me like that! I've got eyes _everywhere_!"

As Pinky quickly moved from person to person, people started to avoid her. When she asked a question, they were usually so startled, that they didn't have time to answer before Pinky moved on to someone else. And when they did answer, the information was completely useless. Pinky's questioning became more aggressive, and soon, the entire crowd had left, leaving Pinky and Rachel standing by themselves in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Man, that was pointless," Pinky said, disappointed. "How are we going to find out anything about the murders?"

"You guys want to know something about the murders?" came a voice from behind. They turned around and saw a young girl, slightly younger than them, holding a cup of coffee. She just happened to be walking by when she heard them talking of the recent events, and decided to help.

"You know something about the homicides?" asked Rachel with enthusiasm.

"Well,_ I_ don't," the girl said. Rachel's mood sank a little, before the girl added, "But Mr. Ruiz knows a lot. He even saw one of the killings take place." Rachel's mood immediately chirped up with this knowledge, and she began to think that she might actually get something done.

"Great! Where is he?" Rachel asked happily. The girl pointed across the street to the opposite sidewalk.

"He's right over there," the girl stated. Pinky and Rachel turned around, and saw that a Brazilian man was sitting down on the sidewalk, enjoying a nice cup of coffee as he watched the occasional car drive by.

"That's fantastic," Rachel declared. "Let's go speak to him."

"But he doesn't speak English," the girl admitted. Rachel paused for a moment, and then her smile slowly disappeared. She turned to Pinky.

"Well, that was a waste," she said somberly. "Now what are w-… Pinky? Pinky, where are you?" Rachel looked around for her hyper friend, but found her nowhere. At last, she saw her friend, halfway across the street with Mr. Ruiz.

"…e ele tinha esses olhos horríveis. Os olhos do diabo," Mr. Ruiz said fearfully, as he explained his story.

"Os olhos do diabo?" Pinky replied to him.

"Sim, era muito horrível. Eu estava com tanto medo na minha vida," he continued.

"O que aconteceu depois?"

"Mais duas pessoas tentaram assassiná-lo, mas ele matou-os também. Eu estava com muito medo de se mover. Ele me olhou bem nos olhos, mas ele sorriu, e depois à esquerda na fumaça mais preta."

"Ele acabou de sair no meio da fumaça?"

"Sim. Sim. Ele só me deixou sozinho." Pinky thought deeply about the story, before thanking the man, and walking back over to Rachel. Rachel was quite shocked at Pinky's performance, and was wondering a great many things. But the only thing she could ask was:

"When did you learn to speak Portuguese?"

Pinky smiled at her, as if it were the most basic knowledge in the world. "Duh," Pinky said. "I'm like, one-sixteenth Portuguese. Anyway, I think I know what we are dealing with."

"Well, what is it?" asked Rachel, desperately wanting to know.

"Well, if I heard correctly," Pinky said, making sure she understood what Mr. Ruiz was saying. "Then I think we're fighting a magician."

* * *

"He teleported?" said Tara, in great confusion. It was two o'clock, and the gang had regrouped in Rachel and AJ's motel room, as they discussed what information they had learned. For the most part, no one had gathered any real information, except for Pinky's eye witness testimony from Mr. Ruiz. But even then, Tara had a great deal of trouble accepting the information that Pinky was handing out. Pinky ferociously nodded her head again.

"That's what Mr. Ruiz said," Pinky said as she tried to prove her point once again.

"Maybe you just mistranslated him, darling," Rachel said with support.

"No way. I know what he said," Pinky reaffirmed. "This guy was standing there for one second, then there was a puff of smoke, and then _POOF!_ He was gone."

"Pinky, let's be realistic here," stated Tara. "You're saying that a mass murderer has the ability to teleport around in a puff of smoke, and he just let one of his victims live for _no_ reason, when he's been known to kill anything that gets in his way. And apparently, he's also _Satan. _That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." Pinky felt almost angry that they weren't listening, but she wasn't very used to feeling angry. Instead, she hung her head, disappointed that the others refused to believe her.

"But… I _know_ that's what he said," Pinky said, softly.

"Pinky, what's more likely?" asked Dash. "The Devil is running around, teleporting and killing everything in his sight, but apparently refuses to kill foreigners? Or, that the white stuff is getting to your head, and you're not as good as speaking fucking _Portuguese_ as you remember?" Pinky lied back on the bed, covering her face with her hands, as she stared at the ceiling.

"I…I don't know," Pinky admitted. Tara stood up, and started to walk towards the door, disappointed in the information that they found today. Normally, she was very good at learning things in a short amount of time, but this case eluded her. She had only learned three things today: Pinky could speak another language, the town thinks that Lucifer is destroying the populace, and Fiona has an old friend named Jacob, that she was fairly certain meant a lot more to Fiona than she was letting on. Other than that, the day had been a complete waste.

"Well, I guess we should go back and start searching again," Tara said, as she opened up the door. She was almost instantly greeted with a flash of lightning, followed swiftly by the booming sound of thunder. Rain was pouring down upon the streets, and Tara realized that the girls would be going nowhere for the rest of the day. She sighed, as she closed the door. "…or not."

Dash let out a moan, before pulling up a search engine on her phone, and typed in their current address.

"So… anyone want Chinese for dinner?"

* * *

It was now six-thirty, and the storm clouds were finally starting to clear. As the grey skies slowly started to turn black, Tara considered her next course of action. She and Fiona had returned to their room, after a lengthy meal of mediocre Moo Shu Pork. Tara had many things to consider, and for that she requested time alone. In compliance, (since there was really no place else to go) Fiona was lying on the bed, staring at no particular spot on the ceiling. Tara had several options that she could take, although none of them sounded promising.

Her first option was to call the investigation off for the evening. It did serve its benefits. For starters, it allowed them to start a fresh search in the morning, once they were well rested. Finding information about the cases would be much easier if there were actual people they could talk to, instead of wondering around the streets. Plus, there was the moral of the team that she had to consider. From what she could gather at the meeting, no one seemed particularly interested in continuing the case for the night. It was still stormy out, and it presented the idea that Tara would have to wait until the weather fully cleared before searching again. Plus, staying in would allow Tara to talk to Fiona some more. There were many things that Tara wished to ask her about, including her hatred of Haddonfield and her probable romantic relationship with Jacob. And, if Tara proved to be correct with her belief, it would add a small boost of self-confidence, knowing she was able to read people easily. However, she also knew that Fiona was desperately trying to get back home as soon as possible, and would not appreciate a delay in the search. And the most notable problem with this plan of action would be that for every day they waited, more people could die. And although Tara did not want to upset her team, the innocent lives meant so much more to her than petty morality.

The second option was to leave immediately in search for the murderer. It wasted the least amount of time, and they could continue the search instantly, without the possibility of costing more lives. But, the weather did not seem to fully permit this course of action, as storm clouds still loomed over the horizon, threatening to strike down with rain and thunder, crippling the investigation. There was also the somewhat terrifying notion that all of the killings had occurred at night. If the team were to leave the relative safety of the motel, they could become the targets of the next homicides. Of course, they still did not know why each victim was targeted in the first place, or how the killer had managed to execute his enemies with such skill and precision. Perhaps, it was this stark lack of knowledge that made this option so terrifying. They had no idea what this man could do and perhaps, it was best to wait before attempting to bring the criminal down.

The third option was more or less a combination of the former two choices. She could send a small team to continue investigating while the others monitored their progress. It would limit the amount of people put in harm's way, while allowing for strategic thinking to be made from a safe location. They could continue to learn more about the murders throughout the night, and in the morning, a second team could research among the town's people. It was the best way to manage their resources, and they could prevent any crime in progress they came across. But unfortunately, she came across similar problems. Without full knowledge of what the assailant could do, she could be sending her own friends into a death trap. And if they did get into trouble, it would take far too long for Tara to send backup.

Tara paced around the room, all three plans of action buzzing around her head. She was having a great deal of trouble thinking of anything, and this greatly bothered her. Normally, she was very good at making decisions. She had come up with the plan to attack Discord's base in thirteen minutes, but she had been deep in thought for the past two hours, and she was unable to come up with a solution. It seemed like no matter what choice she made, people were going to die as consequence, and this burden fell on her heavily. She groaned.

"Man, I just don't know what to do," Tara spoke to Fiona. "I _really_ don't know. It's like, no matter what I do, someone is going to have the pay the price for it. All I'm trying to do is stop a murderer, nut for whatever reason, I feel like _I'm_ going end up hurting people."

"Don't worry, Tara," said Fiona softly, still looking up at the ceiling. She smiled. "You'll think of the right thing. You always do." Tara smiled at the words of encouragement.

"Thanks, Fiona," Tara said in response. It was then that Tara realized Fiona seemed to be rather upset about something. Her normally bright, angelic face was somber, and her body language showed that she was deep in thought about something. "Are you alright, Fiona?"

Fiona realized that Tara had noticed her rather dark mood, and she felt a little embarrassed by it.

"Uh, no," Fiona lied. "Everything's alright." Tara rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Fiona. I know something's troubling you," said Tara. Fiona took a deep sigh, got up, and sat at the edge of the bed. Tara took a seat next to her, and put her hands on her lap, listening closely.

"Well," started Fiona. "It's just that, ever since I came back here, I've been thinking about a lot of things. Things I have now and… things that I left behind." Tara nodded, as Fiona took another deep breath before continuing.

"The thing is…" Fiona paused, unsure of what to say. It felt very bizarre saying this directly to Tara, but it was something that she felt she had to get off of her chest. And in her opinion, there was no better set of ears to tell this to. "Have you ever liked someone, but you were unsure if they liked you back?"

_Oh, _thought Tara. _So _that's _what this is about._

Tara knew exactly what Fiona was thinking, but she didn't wish to undermine her friend's confession. So, she simply put on her best confused look, and shook her head. Fiona took another breath.

"Well…" Fiona started to say. "Let's say, hypothetically, that I liked this…_ person_." Fiona spoke nervously, while Tara faked a shocked expression.

"Yes…" Tara said, pretending that she didn't understand what Fiona meant.

"And, well," Fiona started to stumble over her own words, as she grew more embarrassed with each passing moment. She hid her face underneath the hood of her jacket. "I wanted to know if this…_person_...liked me back. Would you, by any chance, not that you would of course, um… know how to see if they felt the same way?" Tara couldn't help but smile at Fiona's attempt at a love confession. Of course, Tara knew exactly who the "person" was, and she was already pretty confident that Fiona's romantic interest returned similar feelings. She had seen it from the moment they met. But still, Fiona wanted advice, and being the very helpful best friend that she was, Tara would tell Fiona everything she needed to know.

"Well, lucky for you, Fiona, I have read my fair share of romantic tales in my lifetime, and I would be happy to help you," spoke Tara gladly. Fiona perked up a bit at the news, but was still rather embarrassed to say much.

"So, uh," Fiona managed to get out. "What would you say to d-do? Hypothetically, o-of course."

"Well," Tara considered, thinking over the various romantic tales that she had read through. Although she always considered it light reading, she made a mental note of many of the techniques used by the heroines to seduce the men. "You could get to know the person over a long period of time, get to know a lot about them before trying anything, you know, _different_."

"Okay," Fiona responded to the not-so-helpful advice. "Anything else?"

"You could try to invite the person to a semi-romantic date, see how they feel about you," Tara suggested. Fiona nodded. "You could try to sexually seduce them, although something tells me you're not the kind of person for that. You could learn about that person through their friends, discover things about them. Wear different things, try new makeup…" Tara continued to rattle off different tips, which Fiona gradually took in. But yet, nothing truly seemed to be able to help her.

"Anything else you know of?" asked Fiona hopefully. Tara thought hard about anything else that could help Fiona. There was one other thing that she thought of. A particularly off-the-wall method she had not seen being used often in literature. But she recalled it being rather successful in the novel, which she had borrowed from one of her acquaintances in her freshman year of high school. It wasn't the most widely spread solution, but perhaps Fiona needed something a little different to help her with Jacob.

"Well, you could try to be spontaneous," Tara suggested. Fiona stopped and took a glance at her friend.

"Spontaneous?" Fiona asked, making sure she heard Tara's suggestion correctly. Tara nodded.

"Yeah. It worked in _The Memories of Velma Verano_, so I suppose it's as good of an idea as any," Tara said. Fiona seemed to perk up, as she thought about the idea, cycling through her head.

"What do you mean?" Fiona asked. Tara looked up at the ceiling, as she tried to think of more details.

"Like, do something out of the blue," Tara thought out loud. "Like, invite the person on a date from out of nowhere, or just buy them presents because you care. People tend to think most clearly in the heat of the moment. Or maybe, you could-"

But Tara never got to finish her words, as Fiona quickly grabbed on to her, and pressed their lips together.

**To Be Continued…**


	5. Chapter 3: Inner Demons (2)

******Note: If anything in the following story is worth noting, positive or negative, good or bad, leave a comment about via review. If every person who read this sentence left a review, the impact would be incredible. We at GodSaveTheKings greatly appreciate feedback, as it substantially helps with the writing process. So please, make your voice heard.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Inner Demons**

**Part 2 of 2: The Angel Who Sought Love**

Haddonfield Senior High rested atop a large, green hill, which had become the town's only true notable geographical feature. From the grassy field, the entire town became visible, and one could easily see the passing of many people as they continued on with their busy lives. When the sun was out, the town glimmered in the light, casting a pleasing image those atop the hill, which many, in their spare time, came to see. But now, with the dark grey skies and sounds of distant thunder, as the sun began to set behind the clouds, the hill was practically abandoned. When the day was still young, animals roamed about the fields, and birds flew to and from their nests, looking for food. But now, with the storm, most animals had abandoned the open fields in search for cover from the rain. No one would dare come up to the hill during a dark time of the day like this.

And that was why it was perfect for him.

The man, who had been called a monster so many times in his life that he believed nothing else, was sitting on the hill, peacefully watching the dark clouds float over the city, as the sky continued to fade to black. He occupied his time by picking blades of grass off of the ground, and letting them be picked up by the wind and carried off. Sometimes, he would pick up his sword and sheath, which rested besides him on the grass, and he rubbed the blade between his fingers. It was times like these that he truly enjoyed, when he didn't have any worries, when he could just forget about his fate and live life how he truly wanted. But he knew that these times wouldn't last, and soon, nightfall would come, and the hunt would start again. He heard a bird caw over his head, and looked up to the sky to find a raven circling him. The raven, without any hesitation, swooped down and landed next to the man. He smiled at the bird.

"Well, hello there, my friend," he spoke to the bird. "How are you this fine evening?" The bird responded by twisting its head back and forth, looking at the man from different angles. The man nodded in understanding. "Ah, I see. You're lost. Looking for something that you just can't seem to find."

He reached out and stroked the raven's feathers, and the raven happily moved around in his hands.

"That's alright. I'm looking for something too. We all are, I suppose," he continued to talk to the raven as if it were his lifelong friend, and the bird continued to stand next to him, listening to the words as if he could understand them. "Isn't it beautiful?" said the man, looking out upon Haddonfield. "It's such a beautiful place. Filled with completely innocent people, who have done no wrong in their lives. It's a shame that I have to come here to a place like this, and bring upon it such misery."

He sighed heavily.

"But despite all of the innocent souls, he could be out there. Right here, in this very town. And so, I can't leave, not yet. For ten years, I have suffered through this madness. For ten years, I have endlessly searched for him. But he might be here. And so I have to continue on, and take everyone down who will get in my way."

He smiled, and looked back at the raven, which was still listening intently.

"But something tells me that soon, I will find what I am looking for. And so will you, my little friend. And then, all will be right with the world once again."

The bird cawed at him, and then took off towards the town. He smiled as he watched it fade away into the storm clouds, before disappearing completely. He sighed and stood up, slinging his sword and sheath over his shoulder. His rest was over for the night, and there was much work to be done. In a puff of black smoke, he was gone, as he once again continued his hunt.

* * *

Tara could honestly say that she had not seen this coming.

In fact, it quite dumbfounded her how she could be so wrong about everything that she had thought before. She was so certain, so confident in her abilities, that she could bet her life on how simplistic it was to figure everything out. She didn't know what had happened, where she had gone wrong. It was a simple process, but she thought she was very intuitive, figuring out Fiona's life problems with a simple glance. In fact, she was not only certain of her problems, but she had even believed to have solved a great trouble of Fiona's conscience, not to mention discover the identity of someone close to the girl's heart. But as the facts before her showed, she was quite wrong about her theory, as she now found herself lip locked with one of her best friends.

Who was a girl.

She was kissing another girl.

As this reality set in with her, a wave of emotions crashed through her. She realized a great many things wrong with this, and her range of emotions changed rapidly in the next few moments.

First of all, she realized with great despair, was that this was her first kiss. Of course, in junior high, she had always dreamed of a romantic first kiss with a true gentleman, which may have seemed silly to the others, but it was perfect for her content, little fantasy. Given her peers at high school, however, she realized in her freshman year that her dreams would never come true, and she would have to hold out to wait for her true prince. But now, her fantasy was permanently shattered in a horrible motel in the middle of West Virginia. And this realization brought to Tara sorrow and emptiness, as she would now forever remember this dignifying moment for as long as she lived.

Disgust was another prominent feeling that was flowing through her. Never had she once found girls sexually attractive, and now, from a more personal point of view, she fully understood why. While at first she felt numb, everything was coming back to her. As her sense kicked back into function, she felt everything. She felt Fiona's soft lips pressing against hers, she felt Fiona's light breathing against her skin, and she felt Fiona's hands press into her soldiers, as they held the two bodies together. And Tara was repulsed by every aspect of it. She could not give a specific reason why, but she absolutely hated the current sensation. Her friend's hands made her skin crawl, and her breath stung harshly against her skin, every breath feeling like the life was being sucked out of her. In fact, Tara felt as if she were going to throw up. Every small thing screamed out to her brain in the worst possible ways, sending horrible sensations running through her body. Fiona's taste seemed to remind her of methane, despite it obviously being more that of strawberry, and the texture felt like someone was rubbing her face with spoiled food, despite the innate softness. And while a more rational part of her brain suggested that she was overreacting, the rest of her mind and body silenced that part of her thought rather quickly.

And yet, despite these overwhelming feelings of disgust and sorrow, something rose above it all, pushing it all aside in room for something else. And while Tara strongly agreed with the two emotions, every part of her natural instinct pointed at something much more acceptable.

Hate. Anger. Rage. All feelings of dread and discontent coursing through her veins, faster than her blood could carry it. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, and above all else, she felt like she wanted to hit something. Hard. Very hard. In fact, she even felt like she wanted to kill something. The rage taking slowly taking control of her system, sending very harsh thoughts chaotically running through her skull, as the adrenaline started to pump through her. She thought of violent deaths and horrible beatings, something she didn't even know she was capable of thinking of. But the rational part of her brain was still fighting, still trying to reason with her system to calm down. But she couldn't focus on that part of her brain right now, because the thought of punching Fiona in the face seemed so appealing.

_Fiona._

It was all her fault. She had lied to Tara, betrayed her trust and had gotten close to her, with sick, perverted thoughts running through her psychologically messed up brain. Of course, her brain was damaged. That's the only reason why Fiona would do something so dirty, so messed up as kissing one of her only friends, one of her other _female_ friends. And for whatever reason, Tara hated the idea of having Fiona as a friend. She couldn't stand the thought of someone who did something so unnatural ever being around her.

And suddenly, she found herself presented with two new options, those of which were on quite the different subject than her thoughts mere minutes ago.

The first option was to continue to kiss her once-closest friend, and possibly video tape the entire aftermath, before posting it on the internet, successfully fulfilling the dreams of many hormonally challenged teenage boys around the globe. And while she was at it, she might as well join a secret samurai order, get a tattoo of a butterfly on her buttocks, and travel the entire globe with an albino elephant and a magical unicorn.

Or she could pick option two, which entailed getting Fiona to stop sucking her face, and then getting the psychotic girl away from her and never speaking to her again, but not after some form of physical or verbal punishment. And in her raged, uncontrollable state, the physical punishment seemed more and more like a very good idea.

And so, after what seemed like hours of kissing the pink-haired girl (which in reality lasted a total of two and one-half of a second), Tara made her easiest decision of the entire week. She grabbed on to Fiona's shoulders roughly, and forcefully shoved the girl as far away from her as possible. Fiona flew back onto the bed in a daze, as Tara backed away from the mattress and let her thoughts flow freely from her now-stained lips.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS _WRONG _WITH YOU?!" Tara shouted in disbelief. Although she would never try to use harsh language, especially with someone as sensitive as Fiona, the hateful emotions coursing through her made it impossible to think clearly. As soon as Fiona realized what Tara had said, she instantly recognized what a massive mistake she had made.

"Oh my God, Tara, I…I'm _so_ sorry," Fiona tried to apologize, but Tara wasn't listening. She was too busy listening to the blood rushing to her ears to care about Fiona's apology.

"How the _fuck_ could you do that?!" Tara continued to shout.

"Tara, I…I…" Fiona struggled to come up with an explanation for her actions. She certainly had not wanted this to happen, and now, she was stuck in the chaos of Tara's fury that, the day prior, neither girl knew existed.

"How? How could you not tell me about this?!" Tara said, harshly. Fiona was feeling her heart slowly break apart after each syllable; its pieces crashing through her body as she witnessed Tara lose self-control.

"I…" Fiona said, as she started to feel her eyes water. It didn't help that she nearly burst into tears at the sight of a wounded animal, but now her best friend, one of the only people she could trust, was cursing her out. "…I'm so sorry. I… didn't know, I just-"

"JUST WHAT?!" Tara spat back at her. "Just clung on to me like a leach, sucking whatever you could off of me to satisfy whatever _fucked-up_ urges you got over the years. Tell me, how much of our friendship was a lie? Did you really even like me, or were you just using me…" Tara shuddered hard. "…for my _body_? For my looks and my innocence." Tara didn't want to think about it. She couldn't bear the thought of Fiona's crazed sexual fantasies of her, all of the dirty thoughts that Fiona must have thought about over the course of their friendship. It just made Tara sick. Fiona shook her head furiously.

"No, Tara, it was never like that…" Fiona desperately tried to explain through the lump in her throat, as she realized that her friendship was crumbling right before her eyes with the only person that she could really trust. She struggled to take a deep breath through her tears.

"I mean, yes, I…I'm _gay_, alright?" Fiona said slowly, trying not to let herself completely crumble down. "And you were one of the most beautiful people I ever met. But, I didn't like you because of_ that_. You were one of the only people who was ever really nice to me. You tried to help me out when no one else did. I…I don't know… I just assumed…"

"Assumed what?!" Tara said with venom in her voice. She didn't believe in Fiona's words for one second. And even if she did, it wouldn't matter to her anyway. The damage was already done, and Fiona couldn't change anything about it. "That I was a _fag_ like you?! That I would suddenly fall into your arms and fucking _accept_ everything?! That I would sin away into some twisted, goddamn _fantasy _of yours? You're fucking _delusional_, Fiona, and I hope that when you get sent to Hell, you get what you fucking _deserve_."

Fiona was sobbing hard now, unable to handle all of the terrible words being thrown at her. Everything around her was falling apart, and each word stung her deeply, as she felt like once again, she was unable to escape the nightmare that was her pitiful existence.

"You (sob)… you don't really mean that," Fiona managed to say through her tears. Tara couldn't even stand to look at her former friend.

"No, I _do_," Tara said sternly, with no hint of forgiveness in voice. "Now, _get out_."

"Please Tara, let's (sob) talk about this," Fiona sorrowfully said. She tried to approach the angered girl, but Tara shoved her away, towards the door. If it weren't for the fact that Tara felt so disgusted by the physical contact, she would have punched Fiona in the face. But she didn't, instead finishing her off with more hate-filled words.

"I said, GET OUT! It's already too late. The damage is done," Tara spoke with such punctuality, that Fiona felt the words were designed to be as hurtful as possible. For all she knew, they were. Slowly, with her pride hurt and her life in shambles, Fiona placed her hand on the door knob. But before she left, she sighed heavily, not even bothering to face Tara, as she knew she would receive no kindness from her vengeful girl.

"I didn't _ask_ to be like this, you know?"

With that, Fiona exited the motel room, and made her way to the empty street outside. Once Fiona left, Tara lied down on the bed, and took a deep breath, as she stared hard at the ceiling. She thought over everything she had spoken to Fiona, and of course, she found some regret in her choice of words. As she calmed down, her rational side started to take over again, and she knew that she easily could have handled the situation better. It helped her realize not to let her emotions take control of her again, and never to ignore her rational thought again. It also showed her how mean she was able to be, but she did not see this as a necessary negative thing. In fact, she knew that it helped to have a darker side to herself, to help with what challenges the team might face. After all, she said what she needed to say to Fiona. She showed no rules, no restrictions, and no remorse. And most importantly, everything she said was honest and straight from the heart. Or at least, some of it was, but it didn't matter now. She could not change what had been said, and now, she would have to consider the consequences for her actions, and what this would do to the operation, as well as her team.

Meanwhile, Fiona was currently sitting on the sidewalk, wrapped tightly in a ball as she cried into her knees. She felt horrible, like every one of her worst fears had crawled inside her and taken a permanent residence. She couldn't think clearly about her friends, and she couldn't think clearly about what this would do to her future. She didn't want to know all of the misery her life would continue to be from that point onwards, and she didn't know how she could possibly recover from the pain as she had done before. The only thing that she knew was that for the second time in her life, Fiona Samswell wanted to die.

* * *

It was two hours later when Dash heard a knock on her door. She was very glad for it, as it interrupted one of Pinky's incredibly inaccurate stories, this one including the time she befriended a large cougar named "Willis". Dash happily rushed to the door, and opened it to see Tara standing before her, her sword slung over her shoulder in its sheath, and having the biggest look of determination on her face that Dash had ever seen from the girl.

"Come on," Tara said. "We're going to look for the killer."

"Why?" Dash questioned. "It's fucking late out. We can wait until morning."

"The longer we wait, the more people die," Tara said sternly. Pinky happily chimed in.

"Yeah, but Dash and I were having the greatest conversation. See, this one time-" Pinky started to say, but Dash had already thrown on her jacket, and ran to AJ's room to alert the other girls. Now, she thought, it might actually do her some good to investigate the killings late at night.

However, Dash was starting to regret her decision by this point. It had been one hour since the girls had left for the night, and nothing had been found. Dash was left to wander aimlessly around the streets, looking for any signs of suspicious activity, (which she had no idea what suspicious activity would even look like, which in itself was a massive problem). She should have known something was wrong with this idea from the moment Tara suggested it. Of course, at the time, Dash had known quite well that something was wrong, but she would never have the indecency to admit to herself that she had made a bad decision and went along with a horrible plan. But now thinking about it, she should have protested more.

First of all, there was the small issue that Fiona wasn't joining them. When AJ inquired about this, Tara simply responded with a groan and said that Fiona had "something she had to be dealing with". Obviously, Dash didn't know what could be more important than a homicidal maniac roaming the streets. In fact, Dash was sure Tara seemed very upset and angry with Fiona when AJ brought the topic up. But she had simply put it off as Tara being on her period, or having some sort of issue with someone going against the great plan that Tara had surely thought of, as Dash was quite sure that Tara immediately despised all who opposed her "brilliance". But, another problem was simply the method they were handling their search. Tara had told the girls to split up individually, and search around town by themselves, walking alone through the streets of Haddonfield, which none of them really knew how to navigate. Dash could not fathom why Tara would think of a suicidal plan like this. Perhaps there was something that Dash didn't understand, some master stoke that would solve all of their problems. Of course, the true purpose behind this course of action (which Tara would guarantee that none of the girls would ever learn about) was that Tara felt like she needed to take a long walk to sort out the thoughts in her head. It wasn't by any means a safe plan, but Tara was still in such a state of shock from the evening's events that she didn't really care. However, Tara at least attempted to make sure the girls didn't feel entirely alone. They all had their cell phones locked in a conference call, so they could easily communicate with each other. And each of the girls had been given a gun for protection, which Dash snugly kept in her back pocket.

But all in all, walking around the streets at night with a murderer on the loose didn't justify the ridiculous course of action. No one had seen anything, though, which gave an uneasy stillness to the air. So Dash just quietly walked around the streets of Haddonfield, secretly hoping that she was at talented as she thought she was, and she wouldn't become the next victim of a homicidal rampage.

"Nothing by me…_again_," Dash reported back to her friends. She heard sighing from one of the other callers.

"Man, I thought at we'd certainly find something by now," groaned Pinky.

"I guess finding nothing is better than getting our heads chopped off," said AJ, trying somewhat to lighten up the mood.

"True, I'd much rather _not_ die tonight," said Rachel snidely.

"Yeah, you got to be extra careful," joked Dash. "After all, we don't have free health care in this country."

"Ha ha, very funny," Rachel replied sarcastically. "You should really get that fixed, by the way."

"Yeah, whatever," Dash responded. She was walking by the high school, noticing the lack of people walking around the street. It appeared that the fear had spread around the town, and people were deathly afraid. But just when she thought that the entirety of the town was deserted, as luck would have it, she spotted a man walking towards her, looking around for people just as she was. She walked pass him, and he nodded to her.

"Evening, ma'am," he said politely to her. She simply scoffed, and continued to walk. It was quite strange to see anyone walking at this hour, given the circumstances. In fact, the man was dressed rather odd. His dark clothing gave the impression that he didn't want to be seen. And was she mistaken, or did that man have a sword strapped to his back? She took a look behind her, and saw that she was not mistaken at all. The man was in fact carrying a weapon, and Dash slowly realized who had passed her.

"Um, guys?" she quietly said to her phone. "You might want to get over here. Fast."

"Why?" responded Rachel from over the phone.

"Just get over by the high school," Dash said quickly. Unfortunately, her response was louder than she anticipated, and her conversation was overheard. The man stopped in his tracks, and listened closely. He thought something odd of Dash's behavior, and an idea crossed his mind that he might be being followed. So, he redirected his course, now starting to walk towards the Senior High entrance. Dash took notice of this, and started to trail the man towards the building. "And hurry the fuck up. I think I'm hunting down the most dangerous man in the fucking town."

It took around twenty minutes for the rest of the team to show up at the Senior High. By this time, the man had promptly entered the building, (which puzzled Dash, because she assumed that the school would be locked at this time.) Dash was met with some relief that the other girls had showed up, and now, they had the opportunity to take down the criminal who had been haunting the town of Haddonfield.

"Alright, we need to take this with caution," Tara said. Dash rolled her eyes.

"If you were careful, you wouldn't have let us walk around the town all by our-fucking-selves,' Dash said.

"Dash, now is not the time," Tara said sternly. "I wasn't thinking perfectly clear then, but it turned out _fine_. So, let's not focus on that right now."

"Fine, Spark," Dash moaned. "Not my fault if you can't take the fucking criticism. What's the plan?"

"Simple," Tara said. "We break into the school, find this guy and kill him. We stick together; we are much less of a target that way." The girls were a little surprised by the strict maner of Tara's orders, and it became quite clear that something was troubling the girl. Tara ignored the stares she was receiving, and started to get moving towards the school. But she was stopped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and AJ walked up to her, concerned.

"Tara, ya feelin' alright?" AJ asked her friend. "Ya don't seem to be acting like yourself." Tara shrugged AJ's hand away, and AJ was slightly hurt by the act. Tara knew she shouldn't have done it, but she still felt bitter about another female touching her.

"I'm fine, AJ," Tara said. "Let's just get this over with." She continued to march up the hill, and soon reached a door to the building. She grabbed onto the handle cautiously, and attempted to tug it open. But much to her surprise, the door would not budge. She tried pulling on the large set of doors harder, but still, they refused to move. They would not push inwards, either, and Tara soon found herself unable to enter the building. She turned to Dash, concerned.

"Are you sure this was where the guy went?" Tara asked.

"Pretty fucking sure," said Dash.

"Hold on, I got this," AJ said, taking out her gun. She took aim towards the handle, and ordered the girls to back away from the door.

_BANG_

The bullet broke through the door, breaking the lock mechanism, allowing the girls to enter the building. The inside of the school was very dark, and Tara had to let her eyes adjust to the light. As the room slowly grew brighter, the girls took out their weapons, understanding that they were in a severe tactical disadvantage.

"Okay, stick together. We move as a unit," Tara said, slowly advancing deeper into the building. They passed by a receptionist desk, and took a turn down one of the many hallways. They passed by several classrooms, each of them decorated with multiple posters. Happy animals and drawings smiled at them, with phrases and puns praising math and literature. They passed along many lockers, some left open and unlocked overnight, and they came to another turn, keeping their eyes out for any signs of the man. They passed by a large cafeteria, with a high ceiling and twenty long rectangular tables, which in the day, were used to seat the loud, talkative students as they ate away at cheaply made, processed food. Beautiful art decorated the walls, and under different circumstances, Tara might have found herself enjoying the student-made drawings, and all of the struggles that they represented, the dreams that they encouraged. But now was not the time, so she pressed on, navigating the halls only by the light of the moon, which had now graced the girls with its presence, shining through the windows in the open rooms. They made a left, followed by a long corridor with more classrooms, and then another left turn. Soon, they found themselves face to face with a large set of red double doors. Tara cautiously opened the door, which thankfully was not locked, and stepped into the complete darkness of the next room. As the other girls entered behind her and closed the door, the slamming of the door sent echoes vibrating throughout the room, giving Tara a scope of the size of the room. She felt a large emptiness around her, and she could smell the faint musk of sweat around her. Then suddenly, a deep voice echoed around them.

"I did not expect to see _this_ tonight."

The lights suddenly flicked on, causing the girls to flinch and cover their eyes. As their vision adjusted, they noticed that they were in a large gymnasium. Lines ran about the floor, and many basketball hoops were suspended in the air, waiting to be dunked upon. Doors leading to changing rooms were located on either side of the gym, and more doors on the opposite side led to the teacher's office. In the center of the room lay a large design of a wolf, surrounded by letters in a semi-cricle, spelling out, "Haddonfield Timberwolves." Laid lengthwise across the side of the court were long stands, meant to hold the parents as they happily cheered on the children in their favorite sports. But now, it was empty, save for one man sitting far in the right corner, running a long blade between his fingers. His orange eyes never left his weapon as he continued talking.

"Usually, the people I kill are fighters, warriors, people who seem like they have spat death in the face. So, imagine my surprise when I hear that a _teenage girl_ seems to be stalking me. And it looks like she has friends with her. And they all have weapons with them. Tell me, who _are_ you girls?"

"Better question," Tara said with a sneer. "Who are _you_?"

The man smiled at the girls.

"I have many names," the man said simply. "My true name is long forgotten, but the titles my enemies have given me have lasted throughout time. When I fought in Spain, they called me _Hoja Demoniaca_. During my time killing hit men in Germany, I was known as _Hollisch Krieger_. But, over the past few years, a new name has managed to stick on to my reputation. So, I suppose," he said, standing up from his seat on the bleachers. "You can call me…" He bowed.

"The Beast."

He began to casually walk down the steps of the bleachers, clanging his sword against the stairs as he walked. He acted very maturely for a psychopath, Tara noticed, and she became more curious about the killer now that she met him in person. He didn't even resemble the image in her head of what she thought he would look like. He dressed very neatly in his dark clothing, and he kept his hair combed, his back straight, and head held high. He didn't look like someone who had killed over thirty cops in a single week.

"But see," spoke The Beast as he made his way down the bleachers. "I'm much more interested in _you_. A group of teenage girls, strutting about Haddonfield, while searching for a mass murderer. If I didn't know any better, I'd reason that _you_ were the crazy ones, running around and slaughtering people. You even have someone with a sword, which I can find somewhat honorable. So tell me, ladies, what brings such a… _fascinating_ group of women to this school tonight?"

"We're here to kill you," Tara said forcefully. The words came out quite harsh, and Tara was intent on delivering on her statement. But The Beast simply chuckled, as he reached the gymnasium floor.

"No. No you're not," he simply stated, as if it were the most basic thing in the world. He elaborated. "You see, I'm not sure how well you are at reading people's emotions, but I am quite good at it. And from what_ I_ can see, you all look terrified. I can see the slight shaking in your legs; I can hear the stitching in your breath. I see your eyes quickly darting to the exit as you plan for the worst to come. Based on what you said, you know what I have done, and so clearly, you are wondering if I will do the same to you. You may hide under your false sense of security, pointing your useless guns at me, but it won't do you any good, and deep down your rational side is screaming at you to run, but you will ignore it, because you continue to hold on to some false belief that you can actually win. But you can't. None of you have any idea of what you're up against, and I can see it in your eyes. At least the cowgirl seems to have some basic idea of what she is doing, but it still won't do any good. It'll only add seconds to the amount of time it takes for me to kill you."

He sighed.

"None of you are who I am looking for. So, I am going to give you this one opportunity. None of you have tried to kill me yet, so I can't consider you targets. Technically. If you leave now, you will remain unharmed. But if you remain intent on trying to kill me, then I will break each and every one of you."

"You're a monster," Tara spoke sternly. It didn't matter what he had said. She knew what she had to do, even if what this man said was partially true. She felt the unease flowing among the girls, as even though they all had combat training and outnumbered him five-to-one, he showed no signs of worry. "You slaughter innocent people aimlessly, and you expect us to let you continue doing it? Get this straight. I don't know who you're looking for, but your search ends here. We are going to tear you down and make you pay for all of the horrible deeds that you've done. So help me God."

"Fuck yeah," Dash said enthusiastically to Tara's speech. But The Beast simply smiled and shook his head, clearly disappointed.

"If you truly wish to die then," he said. He looked up at the girls, his orange eyes glowing at them. "But trust me, not even God can help you now."

And with that, he vanished in a puff of black smoke. The girls were bewildered, wondering what had happened to the man. Suddenly, Tara felt something shift in the air above her. As if something was falling down upon her. Her instincts taking control, she rolled out of the way, as the others jumped back. From above, The Beast slammed down to the ground, his sword pointed downwards, puncturing the floor right where Tara had been standing a moment ago. Realizing his target had moved, he vanished again. Tara barely had time to get to her feet before The Beast appeared right in front of her, and took a high swipe with his blade. Tara managed to block the sword, but the impact knocked her down to the ground.

"Ha! Told you he could teleport!" Pinky enthusiastically shouted from the other end of the room. Tara growled.

"Not the time, Pinky!" Tara yelled back as she sprung to her feet. She took a lunge towards The Beast, but he swiftly dodged. She took several more swipes at him, but none of them connected, as The Beast easily moved away from Tara's sword. She took a vertical strike, but he sidestepped, and readied his blade for a counter-blow. But he quickly disappeared again, as gunfire whizzed by where he once stood. Pinky had fired these shots, and now she spun around, expecting the man to appear behind her. But he was not there. As she turned to face Tara, she found The Beast to be standing right there, and quickly raised her gun to try and shoot him again. But he grabbed onto her pistol, yanked it out of hands, and swatted her in the face with the end of the gun. The blow knocked her down, and AJ immediately ran over to the aid of her friend.

The Beast heard her footsteps approaching, and turned around while swinging his sword, attempting to catch her off guard. But she anticipated his move, ducking under his sword and throwing out her right fist. He managed to step back to avoid her attack, but now found himself on the defensive, trying to dodge AJ's flurry of punches. Each of her punches were tactically placed, so that he wouldn't be able to attack with his weapon. She was staying at too close of a range for him to get her with his sword, so The Beast switched to another tactic. He teleported away, and AJ took a roll to her left, anticipating another attack for above. But as she came to a stop, a boot swiftly connected with her jaw. She collapsed to the ground, clutching her wounded face, as The Beast started to chuckle.

"Come on, now, is that the _best_ you can do?" he chastised.

_CRACK_

Suddenly, he felt something very hard collide with his side very fast. He doubled over, clutching his ribs, as Dash stood smugly over him with a baseball bat in her hands.

"Yeah that's right," Dash taunted. "Not so bad anymore once you take one of these babies to the ribs. Can you believe they just leave their supplies closet unlocked in this place?"

The Beast growled. "You smug little-"

He attempted to rise off of the ground and lunge at Dash, but Rachel had taken the opportunity to stop cowering in fear, and tackle The Beast to the ground. She started unleashing her own barrage of short punches, which The Beast mostly blocked by covering his face with his arms. As Rachel pounded away, he rolled around beneath her, trying to gain some leverage. Eventually, he was able to throw her off of him, and he quickly rolled to the side to avoid being struck in the face with Dash's baseball bat. By this time, Tara had run over, and The Beast now found himself stuck in the corner, surrounded by the three girls. But he did not panic; instead, he actually started to put some real effort into his combat. He was limited by the searing pain in his ribs, but he managed to make do.

Tara lunged at him with the sword while Dash took a swing with her bat. He teleported behind Rachel to counter this, and tried to slice her at the waist. She managed to, in an impressive display of athleticism, bend her way out of danger, as Tara recovered and took another swing at The Beast. He blocked her attack, and then parried, which Tara jumped out of the way from. Dash took a running start before taking a powerful strike with her bat, but The Beast teleported, and as a result, Dash crashed into Rachel, knocking her off balance. She managed to recover, but she immediately yelled at Dash for her unsuccessful tactic.

"Watch where you're going! You nearly broke my skull with that thing," Rachel shouted at Dash, who sneered in response.

"Don't chastise me, bitch!" Dash shouted back. "Our lives are in fucking danger here! Now's no-"

Dash was cut off as The Beast appeared next to her, and delivered a swift kick to the side of her head, knocking her unconscious. Rachel was briefly stunned, and in this moment, The Beast took the handle of his sword and brought it hard to Rachel's nose, sending her flying back. Tara started the attack again, now noticing that she was the only one of her friends left standing. Her attacks became more desperate, as she struggled to land a hit on the nearly untouched monster of a man. But after a few swings, The Beast decided to end the fight.

Instead of dodging, The Beast locked swords with Tara, and moved his body closer to hers as their swords were pressing against each other.

"You choose to fight with a sword," he said, looking her square in the eye. His voice showed no fear, and no hint of mercy. "I admire that. Most people use a gun for protection, a coward's way of fighting. But want _honor_ in your kills. That makes you special. But you don't know how to use your weapon. Your stance is unbalanced, and your posture is poor. You are denying your sword its true purpose. And for that, I guess you're not special _enough_."

With one swift movement, he knocked Tara's sword away sending it flying towards the wall. Then, he forcefully grabbed onto Tara's upper arm, and wrapped it around her back, as he changed his position so that he was pressed against her spine. He grabbed onto her other shoulder, and forced the girl to her knees, while carefully placing his knee against her back. The, Tara screamed in agony as with one quick snap, The Beast pulled back on her arms, and dislocated both of her shoulders.

* * *

Fiona walked past the school, still feeling the same horrible feeling that been consuming her for the past two hours. She wasn't crying any more, but her eyes were still red and her expression wasn't any brighter. She kept thinking of the terrible mistake she made earlier, which now seemed to cost her everything. She didn't really know why she had decided to do something so crazy, but she thought that just maybe, everything would turn out alright in the end. How idiotic she had to be to make that decision. Now, she was walking the streets of her old hometown by herself, with no one to turn to and no one to call. She didn't even think about the serial killer that had been stalking the town. In fact, she probably wouldn't mind if she got attacked tonight. She felt as if she really didn't have much to live for anyway. She had nothing left; everything was over. Her friendship with Tara was finished, her life with her new friends was done, and her role in P.O.N.Y. had been diminished. She wished that she could call Jacob and talk to him, but she knew that he probably wouldn't understand anything. Besides, Tara was the one who had his number, so that idea was out of the question. She sighed, and leaned against the chain-link fence of the high school. She had never gotten to see the inside of Haddonfield Senior High, but she heard that it was rather nice inside. She wished that she could have been able to see it, to continue her future with her old friends. But like the rest of her life, nothing ever turned out to be simple.

Suddenly, she heard a scream. A very scared, painful, feminine scream coming from the school building. She thought it was very strange that somebody would be in the school this late at night. If she recalled correctly, she always thought that the schools remained closed overnight. So she didn't know why somebody would be in the school, let alone screaming in it. And then, she remembered that there was a serial killer on the loose. She froze in panic, slowly figuring out what this meant.

She realized that someone was stuck inside the high school, and whoever it was, they sounded like they were in grave danger. She thought of what she could do. She thought about calling the girls, and letting them know what was happening. But she realized that it might not be such a good idea, seeing as how it would raise too many questions, and how Tara probably already turned the others against her. Besides, they wouldn't make it in time anyway. In fact, no one was close enough to the school to save the woman trapped in the building. Fiona realized what her only option was, and putting aside all of her own personal worries, ran up the hill as fast as she could. She knew she probably had no chance of truly saving the woman inside, but she had to try.

She was the only one who could help.

* * *

Tara was brutally thrown against the wall, landing right next to her sword. She let out a pained groan, as The Beast slowly walked over to her body. She was merely a foot from her blade, but she couldn't get it. Every time she tried to move her arms, intense pain would rush throughout her body, rendering her unable to reach her weapon. She looked at The Beast, who was smirking as he came ever closer to reaching her and ending her life.

"Why?" Tara managed to choke out through the pain. "Why are you doing this? Who are looking for that you need to cause all of this misery." He chuckled at her.

"I have no idea who I am looking for," The Beast said honestly. Tara was surprised by his response. She was incredibly confused.

"But… but then _why_?" She asked. "Why do this?" The Beast simply continued to chuckle at Tara's ignorance towards the truth, and her desperate search for the truth.

"Normally, I wouldn't tell you. By this point, the people are usually so desperately begging for their lives that I wouldn't bother telling them. But," The Beast considered. "You are not like the others. You at least attempt to fight honorably, even if it is rather poor. So perhaps, you deserve to know why you are about to die." He slung is sword over his shoulder as he recalled the past years leading up to his current life.

"About ten years ago, the United States of America was at war in Iraq. I lived in one of the surrounding regions of a soon-to-be war zone. At the time, I lived the life of a hermit, wandering around the world trying to live in the best ways possible. But, I had recently found myself staying in an area of Iraq, which I soon found to call my home. Unfortunately, it soon became the target of a soon to be war zone, as US soldiers were going to march through my town. I wished to avoid the conflict, but the other people in my region had other plans. They called a rise to action, a plan to kill the soldiers as they marched through the streets. I was torn apart. Was I to stay out of the conflict, or support the people who had become almost family to me? I needed my destiny to be shown to me. So, I traveled to one of my new colleagues, an African witch doctor who lived in a small hut about ten miles from where I was. I consulted her, and she made my fate clear to me. She told me I was to defend my home at all costs, and so, my mind was made up."

"Around two nights later, the Americans marched through the streets of my home, terrifying us all with their large tanks and heavy guns. That was when we launched the trap set for them. Fifty men jumped out and opened fire on the soldiers. It wasn't much of a fight for them. The superior weaponry made the Americans the easy victor. However, I wasn't so easy to kill. They could never strike me down, no matter how much they tried. And after an hour of fighting, I managed to slaughter every soldier single-handedly. I felt great pride in my victory. My home would be safe, at last, I thought. Yet when I got home, I found nothing but corpses, and, an Iraqi rebel force walking through the town. They were an insane group of bandits that were called in for support against the Americans, who butchered the women and children to guarantee that extra food and supplies were given to them as reward. I realized then, that I had killed the wrong people. So, I rectified it. I killed them without mercy, breaking their bones, shattering their skulls, tearing out their hearts. By the time the sun had risen, what once was my home had become nothing but a sea of blood and bodies, and I was the only remaining soul left."

"In defeat, I made my way back to the witch doctor. I had failed to save my home, and I had committed so many sins against humanity that I didn't consider myself a human being. She had managed to avoid the chaos, and she happily took me in. I told her that I wanted to die, that I wanted my sins to be washed away. But when she read me my fate, it wasn't what I had expected. She had told me off all of the atrocities that I had done, and that I must be punished for them. She told me that I had become cursed, forced to walk the earth for an endless number of days while spending each passing seconds suffering of my sins. There would be no respite for me. Unless, I could do one thing. In order to end my suffering, I would have to be killed by a true warrior, one with the purest heart and most honorable intentions, to counter my hideous deeds. Only then, will I finally be rid of my sins. It is my fate."

Tara took everything in.

"You…you mean _that's_ the reason?" She asked in disbelief. Her body was still screaming at her. "You mean that you've been butchering all of these innocent people because you want to _die_?"

"No," said The Beast simply. "Because I _need_ to die. I didn't kill innocent people. I attacked soldiers, fighters, policemen; honorable men who had the chance of killing me. I've been wandering this earth for ten years searching for the person who will end my life. If they tried to fight, then they were considered a possible warrior, and I had to test their capabilities. But it always ended in failure." He stood right next to Tara, and slowly pressed his blade up against her chin. Tara flinched when she felt the metal touching her, and she was surprised by how hot the blade actually was.

"The woman told me that I would know who the warrior was when I saw them. And when I saw _you_, I thought I might have found the person who would finally end me. Hell, you even fought with a _sword_. But you're nothing more than just another pointless soul who doesn't deserve to fight me. I guess we all can't be special sometimes."

"Leave her alone!"

The Beast was about to slice open Tara's neck, when he heard the call coming from of the doorway to the gym. He and Tara looked over, and saw Fiona standing in the doorway, staring at the scene before her. Tara had never expected Fiona to show up, and in some ways, she never wanted her to. The Beast looked puzzled at Fiona's appearance. But soon, he was laughing to himself about the bizarreness of the situation.

"You've got to be kidding," he spoke. "There are _more_ of you. Well," he said, examining Fiona, studying the way she shuffled around in place. "I can't say I'm threatened. I've already taken out your friends, miss. And judging by the way you're standing, I can already see that you're not the person I'm looking for. So run along, and just leave me to my work."

Fiona was somewhat surprised by his behavior. He clearly wasn't scared by her, and looking around, she saw why. He had managed to dispose of the other girls, who were lying on the floor in pain. Even AJ, who was vastly more experienced than the rest of them, couldn't stand up to this man. She looked back at Tara, who had a terrified look in her eyes. She was afraid for many reasons, most predominately being that a sword was being held to her throat, and it was quite clear that The Beast had every intention of killing her. But there was another reason why Tara was scared, and Fiona understood why.

Tara was looking at Fiona fearfully, and at the same time motioned towards the door with a slight tilt of her head. Fiona knew that Tara wanted her to leave. Not because she didn't want to help, or she didn't want to see her. Tara was afraid that Fiona was going to die. She was telling her friend, who before had repulsed her, to leave her behind, escape and live to fight another day. And in all honesty, Fiona was considering it. She knew that if she fought this man, she wouldn't survive. She knew that The Beast saw her fear. Her legs were shaking, and she was nervously twitching around in place, unsure of what to do. She was going to die unless she left immediately. It wasn't hard at all. Fiona closed her eyes and imagined it. She imagined running away from the school, leaving Tara behind to die, following the last wishes of the girl who hated her. She imagined escaping Haddonfield, and starting a new life, a better life, beyond the hate and discrimination that she had experienced.

And then she thought of reading a paper about a small town massacre. She imagined a list of pictures that showed the faces of the victims. And she imagined Tara's face on that list, and knowing that when it truly mattered in her life, Fiona Samswell was a failure.

Fiona opened her eyes, and with an intense drive, spoke something louder and more forcefully than she had ever spoken anything in her entire life.

"I said, LEAVE HER ALONE!" Fiona shouted as she took a fighting stance. The fear was gone, replaced by a burning sensation in her chest, fueling her to fight. There was no more hesitation, just confidence, as Tara witnessed her friend become almost an entirely different person. The Beast sighed, removing his sword from Tara's chin, now pointing it at Fiona.

"Fine," he said as he took a stance. "If you really want to die that badly, I guess I can accommodate you." And with that, he lunged at her, expecting his blade to push through her chest and kill her.

Except Fiona had managed to roll out of the way, and was now running to the other side of the gym. She completely ignored him, instead moving as fast as she could away from him. But in a puff of smoke he appeared in front of her, and prepared to strike. She was started by his sudden appearance, but managed to dodge the incoming blade again, and now took off in the opposite direction. Her plan was simple: bide as much time as possible, get as far away from him as she could, until she figured out a way to take The Beast down. It seemed clear to her that a head-on approach would be suicide, so she played it safe. Soon, The Beast appeared near her again, and attempted to sweep her leg. But, she jumped over, and gained some distance on him. He recovered much quicker than she anticipated however, and soon, he began attacking her with a series of quick slashes that she was finding it difficult to evade.

Soon, she began to notice things about The Beast. Like how before he slashed, he twisted his elbow slightly to the left, and his right heel moved ever so slightly. Now, he lunged, which Fiona managed to dodge, and she switched up her strategy. She threw a punch towards his head, knowing full well that he would dodge it. Instead of watching her hand, she looked at his body, noticing how he moved when he was evading. Quickly, she threw more punches, and finally got a sense of how The Beast moved. Suddenly, she stopped her attack, and let The Beast take a swing at her. He smirked, realizing that she was practically giving him a free shot. He took a high swipe at her, which she ducked. Then, she tried to connect a right hook to the side of his head. He laughed as he dodged, noticing Fiona's decreasing performance.

"What's wrong," he stated as he evaded. "Are you getting ti-"

_WHACK_

Before The Beast knew it, her left foot smacked him hard in the face, causing him to stumble backwards. He felt his nose, noticing the blood running from it in a light stream. He grimaced and growled, before charging at Fiona. He began swinging more wildly at her, trying to kill her with a vengeance. But in his anger, he became sloppy, and Fiona started landing more crucial punches on him. She kicked him in the knees, battered his ribs, struck his face, and hit him with every chance she got.

And it was then that Fiona noticed that she might actually win the fight. That she might be able to defeat The Beast and save her friends.

But in this brief glorious thought, Fiona lost herself, and The Beast had disappeared from her sight. He himself had developed a new tactic, and he was now constantly teleporting around Fiona, encompassing her in a circle of black smoke. She lost track of him, and was completely caught off guard when a powerful fist hit her square in the jaw. She was sent flying backwards, and she struggled to get to her feet. The hit had made her disoriented, and everything around her seemed to blur. She saw shapes moving rapidly towards her, and her instincts told her to move. She barely managed to roll out of the way of The Beast's sword, before she slowly got to her feet. Already, she was forced to quickly dodge a ferocious series of slashes and strokes that was being thrown at her. The world was clearing up around her, but she wouldn't regain her composure until it was too late. She needed more time, and did the only thing she could think of.

She quickly took off her sweatshirt, revealing the plain green T-shirt underneath, and threw it at The Beast. It landed on his head, but it barely slowed him down. He threw it away, and then managed to kick Fiona hard in the stomach. She was knocked down, and was now lying on the ground next to Tara, who was trying to tell her friend to get up. Fiona felt something approaching her, and she reached around her, trying to find anything to use for support. A shadow fell over her, and she grabbed the first thing she could find, lifting it over her head for protection as a blade fell down upon her.

She heard the sound of metal clashing against metal, and Fiona realized what she had managed to find: Tara's sword. Quickly thinking, she kicked The Beast in the shin, and rose up to face him. The sword felt bizarre in her hands, as she had never held a weapon, but she had to quickly adjust to it. Her world had cleared up around her as the effects of the hit had worn off, and now, she was ready to fight.

The Beast and Fiona now started to trade blows with swords, blocking one another's attacks and taking quick strokes with their blades. Fiona was clearly on the defensive. She couldn't find any openings to attack, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out against The Beast's onslaught. She parried The Beast's low swipe, and followed it up with a shoulder block. The Beast stumbled backwards, and suddenly, Fiona realized that she had a chance. It was a very brief opportunity, and it was possibly suicidal, but she felt like she couldn't hold out anymore, and she was getting desperate.

So, with all of her remaining strength, Fiona threw her sword at The Beast. He recovered, deflecting the incoming blade away with his own sword. Suddenly, Fiona charged into him, taking The Beast by surprise. She grabbed onto his right arm, which was holding his blade, and brought a knee up into his elbow, splintering the bone and dislodging the blade from his hand. She grabbed onto his sword, and pushed herself away from the man. And while he gasped in pain at his wound, Fiona lunged and thrust The Beast's own sword through his right shoulder and out of his back.

He screamed in pain and collapsed to the ground as Fiona fell to her knees. She breathed heavily, unable to believe that she was actually able to overcome her foe. She rose to her feet, and then picked up Tara's sword from the ground. While The Beast found himself in an unfavorable position, he wasn't panicking, at least not entirely. He had been caught in similar situations before, and he would be able to escape again. It was all a routine matter to him.

He silently readied a small knife that he stored in the sleeve of his coat.

"What are you waiting for?" The Beast taunted Fiona. "Do it_. Finish me_. End this curse of a life."

Fiona looked at the sword she was holding in her hand. It would be a simple matter to kill him. All it would take would be for Fiona to walk up to him, and impale him through the chest. She heard Tara calling from behind her, telling her to finish the job. And really, there was no reason why he shouldn't die. It would be cruel not to do it, seeing as how his intention was his own demise. Fiona took a deep breath.

The Beast readied his knife, preparing for a fatal blow. Then, Fiona slowly lowered her blade.

"No," she stated simply. "I…I won't do it."

The Beast was stunned. This had never happened before. In all of the years of fighting, everyone had always been trying to end his life. And this girl should have been begging to do it. He attacked her friends and nearly killed her, but she refused to do it. She was even in an advantageous position, still she refused.

"What… what do you mean?" he asked her.

"I can't kill you. That's all," Fiona said again. Tara was fairly certain that Fiona had lost her mind, giving in to her moral code like this. Didn't she have any idea who she was talking to?

"Why? Why not?" The Beast demanded to know. Fiona shook her head, and dropped her sword to the ground, the blade clanging against the gym floor.

"I know that you've done a lot of bad things in the past," Fiona admitted. "And I know that if I let you live, you'll probably do them again. But I _won't_ kill you. I will _never_ take a human life, no matter who they are."

"You're crazy," The Beast scolded. "You're willing to risk the lives of so many people, just because you don't want any blood on your hands."

"It's not that," Fiona said, showing confidence. "If I let you live, you might harm people. But…I know there's also a chance that you can redeem yourself. That you can become a better person, contribute to the world. You don't have to harm people. And… maybe, in the end, you could find a happy life. I don't really know, I guess. All I know is that I can't kill anyone knowing that they still have a chance to do good. After all," she smiled at The Beast. It wasn't a cocky or smug smile, but rather a soft, generous one, that seemed to have a deeper meaning behind it. "Everyone deserves to be shown a little kindness now and then."

The Beast took in her words in, letting them settle in his mind. This girl was crazy. She had the intention of letting him, a mass murderer, live just on the slight chance that he could reform his ways. She had beaten him down, impaled him with his own blade, yet still, she refused to bring an end to his life. It was bizarre behavior, and even stranger considering who it was coming from. He took the whole situation in.

He was nearly killed by an eighteen year-old girl, but in the end, she simply wanted to have a better life than he already had. The Beast thought hard about it. Then, he started to laugh. It was an incredibly happy feeling that was rushing through him. He felt a strange sense of relief and longing. He smiled at Fiona.

"In all of the most unlikely of places," he said to himself. Then he looked Fiona straight in the eye. "What is your name?" Fiona was taken aback by the question.

"Uh…Fiona. Fiona Samswell," she said softly. The Beast smiled at her.

"Well then, Fiona, let me tell you something. You are _insane_. Letting me live is one of the most idiotic ideas I have ever seen. It showed a great deal of compassion on your part. But you don't have to worry about more victims. I have no one left to find. The search is over."

"What are you talking about?" Fiona said, puzzled. He simply chuckled in amusement.

"Look Fiona, it doesn't matter if you want to kill me or not. I may not be in a position to fight now, and you may not want to kill me. But it simply doesn't matter. You _will_ kill me, Fiona. It may not be for generations, but you _will_ bring about my glorious demise. It's already been decided."

He laughed to himself once more in sheer joy, before struggling his way to his feet. Despite the intense pain he was feeling, he still managed to smile.

"The fight is over for now. But we _will_ meet again, Miss Samswell. And when we do, our fates will finally be decided."

And with that, he vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving Fiona standing alone in the middle of the gymnasium floor, as her friends finally started to stir.

* * *

Tara was lying on her bed in the motel. After AJ jammed her shoulders back into place, the girls thought that they should celebrate their victory with a large party. As far as Tara knew, the other girls were right where she left them, in Rachel's room, sitting together, and praising Fiona for her amazingly talented work. Tara didn't really feel like celebrating though, and so she took leave for her room, where had been deep in thought for the past few hours. And despite the fact that it was one o'clock in the morning, she didn't feel tired at all.

That was when she heard a soft knock at the door.

"Um, Tara," said a small voice. "It's, uh, me. Can we, uh, you know, talk for a bit?"

Tara considered keeping Fiona locked outside, but she knew it would be a very cruel thing to do. And given Fiona's work in saving her life, the least she could do was speak to her. Slowly, Tara walked to the door, and opened it up to see Fiona nervously shuffling in place. Tara welcomed her inside, and then both girls took a seat on the bed, laying their backs against the frame. Tara felt very awkward sitting here, as she painfully recalled what happened the last time she and Fiona were at this proximity to each other. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Fiona finally sighed and started to speak.

"Look, Tara," Fiona said somberly. "I…I'm really sorry for what happened earlier. I…I didn't know what came over me, and I know I made a massive, stupid mistake. I should have been honest with you a long time ago. And…I know that I badly hurt you, and I broke your trust in ways that I never should have. I feel _awful_ about it; just terrible. So, I understand if you still really don't want to talk to me, or even see me for a while. I guess I pretty much deserve that."

Tara took a deep breath.

"Fiona, you don't have to say anything," Tara said, kindly. "_I'm_ the one who should be apologizing. I majorly overreacted to everything, and I said some _really_ hurtful and ignorant shit to you; things that should never be said to everyone. I… I guess that was more of my parents saying that than I was. I don't even know why I thought that stuff, in the first place. They were… not the most pleasant thought. I've kept from my childhood. I've been feeling horrible about it for hours now. But there really isn't any excuse I can make that will fully make things up to you."

Tara took sighed before finishing. "Fiona, you're one of my best friends, and I've treated you like crap today. I hope that we can move past this, and just, you know, continue onwards."

"So, we can still be friends?" Fiona asked hopefully. Tara smiled.

"Yeah, I think that would be for the best," she admitted. Fiona took a sigh of relief, and relaxed on the bed. Everything was wrapping up rather nicely on this day. She had saved her friends, stopped a mass murderer, and came out of the closet to her best friend. All in all, this day wasn't terrible.

But Tara was still thinking of one particular thought that was stuck on her mind. And she knew that Fiona would be the only person who could answer it.

"Hey Fiona, what _happened_ to you in this town, anyway?" Tara harmlessly asked. Fiona's mood immediately dampened, and she turned away from her friend.

"I… I just don't want to talk about it right now…" Fiona said, disappointed. She knew it was ridiculous. She could stand up to a serial killer, yet she couldn't talk about a simple matter to her best friend. But Tara understood Fiona's concern was great, and decided that, perhaps, it was best to give her friend some space.

"Alright, Fiona," Tara said sweetly. "I'm sure you'll tell me when you're ready to."

After one minute of some comfortable silence, Fiona took a long sigh.

"I was just twelve years old."

Tara was surprised that Fiona had started speaking, but she didn't waste any time. She scooted over closer to Fiona, as the girl continued to tell her story.

"I was just starting the seventh grade, and my life was pretty good. My home life was decent. My mom was a very sweet woman, and she always made sure that I was raised properly. My father was also nice, most of the time. Sometimes, he would get drunk and I was pretty sure that he may have beaten my mom, but I was never really sure. But other than that, he was very loving and supportive. At my school, I wasn't really alone. I had plenty of friends, Jacob included. I was still mostly shy, but when I was with my friends, I felt great. I felt like I could talk to people and the world wouldn't end. And, thinking about it, it was all pretty fine."

"But my family wasn't exactly made up of… _tolerant_ people. I always recalled my parents complaining about gays, for everything that they did. My father believed that the Westborough Baptist Church was made up of some of the best people in the world, and in all honesty, I think he wanted to join them. He always said, 'We have to butcher those fags at the source, otherwise they'll destroy all that is sacred about our country'. And I guess, being around that for so long, some of it rubbed off on me. I went to join my father at protests, angry marches, and rallies. I didn't see anything wrong with it at the time. I honestly didn't know what the problem was. I even taunted one of the kids at our school, who was openly gay. I said some very cruel and unkind things to that kid. I'm pretty sure the other kids and I may have painfully scarred him. But I kept on a smile. I didn't know the consequences of my actions."

"Then, I entered the seventh grade, and I started to notice different things about my friends. I noticed how pretty they were, what they smelled like, little things like that. I didn't really make anything of it at the time. I just assumed it was a puberty thing. Then, it got worse. I suddenly got these weird urges to spend more time closer with my friends, to hug the girls more, to do anything to get close to them. I was starting to get worried. These urges were distracting me so much, that I couldn't think properly. I had to take swimming in gym, and I couldn't wait to see all of the girls in their swimsuits. It was starting to scare me. I just told myself that everyone went through this, and that in a week or two, it would all go away. But it was relentless, never leaving me alone. It just kept probing at my mind, twisting around my thoughts and everything I knew."

"And then, one night, I realized what was going on. I was trying to get to sleep, but I couldn't get the girls out of my head. And then I just put it all together, I guess. And I started _crying_. I _really_ did. I had to lock myself in my room so that my mother wouldn't see how upset I was. I didn't understand what was happening, or why it had to happen to me. I always thought I was going to live a happy life, get married, and maybe have kids. But that night, I felt my dreams _dying_. I thought that God had abandoned me, or worse, that he _hated_ me. That maybe I had done something horribly wrong, and this was His way of punishing me. Do you have any idea what it feels like to think that God wants you to _suffer_? That the almighty being of love and compassion thinks you are a monster? It's _beyond _horrible. I refused to go to school the next day, because I didn't want to face my friends, and have them find out what I was."

"But I knew that I would have to let it out eventually. I couldn't keep this trapped inside for long, it was driving me crazy. I thought that my friends wouldn't nearly be as angry as I was, and that if I told them, maybe, just maybe, they could accept me. So one day, after school, I asked my friend Stephanie to walk with me, and then I came out to her by the buses. I didn't really know what to expect from her. I thought maybe some kind of shock, or hopefully, some acceptance. Instead, she slapped me in the face and walked off. By the next day at school, the news had spread all around the school that I was a lesbian. The taunting was relentless. I couldn't take three steps without someone insulting me, or shoving me, or taunting me with endless slurs. I had to start skipping classes just to escape the torment. I lost all of my friends; the only time they bothered speaking to me was to tell me that I was going to burn in Hell for an eternity for what a disgusting creature I was. My mom wouldn't let me stay home from school, so I was forced to keep returning to the endless torture of my peers. Even Jacob showed no mercy. One day, he and some of his friends cornered me outside the school. They beat on me, as each of them took turns calling me a disgusting faggot. I'm sure he doesn't even remember it now. I could never explain to my parents what had happened because I didn't want them to know what a putrid being I actually was."

"So, _that's_ why you hate this place so much," Tara said. It was terrible what these children had done to her, even at such a young age. But Fiona shook her head. It was getting harder for her to speak, as water was now in her eyes, and a knot was starting to from in her throat.

"No," Fiona stated. "That's not it." She took a deep breath to calm down, and then continued on.

"I was feeling very alone at the time. Everywhere I went I was mercilessly insulted and taunted. I had nowhere to turn. Even at home, the cyberbullying was relentless. All of the people who used to talk to me were gone, and people who remained constantly told me to kill myself because I was a constant disappointment. I needed somewhere, anywhere to turn to. And I realized that the only people I had left were my parents. The people who raised me to hate the very thing I've become. I never should have thought that they could've understood. But I was so _desperate_, and I thought that maybe, they would understand, because I was their _daughter_, and they _loved_ me. So that very night, over a chicken dinner, I told them what I was. I told them everything, from the bullying to the sexual thoughts, to my self-disgust. And you would never believe the look of _disappointment_ on their faces. After I came out, my father stood up, and left the house. My mom didn't speak to me at all; she just sat there, staring at her dinner plate. I never saw her look so utterly repulsed in her life. And I felt more alone than I _ever_ had before. I understood that even my own parents couldn't stand to love me anymore, just because of what I was. It was about two hours later, and I was still sobbing in my bedroom, wishing I was dead."

Fiona found it incredibly challenging to speak now, as she was constantly getting choked up on her sobs. Tears were now flowing down her face, as her memories came back to haunt her in full.

"Then my father returned," she said, reliving the absolute fear of that night. "I don't know how many drinks he had that night, but he was hammered. It was _brutal_. He marched around the house, screaming about how his legacy was ruined, and how I had cost him everything by being a 'stupid little fag'. He demanded that I come down to him and face the consequences for my 'inhuman behavior'. When I refused, he came up to my room, and kicked the door in. He slapped me in the face, and then pushed me onto my bed. He yelled relentlessly, calling me every horrible name in the book. I felt each and every one of them pierce through me like a knife. He hit me again, calling me the 'biggest disappointment in his entire life', and how he was so ashamed about his 'faggoty daughter'. My mother locked herself in her room. She never even tried to help me." Fiona was now finding it incredibly hard to speak even the most basic words, but she tried the best she could to continue on.

"He (sob) … he t-told me that he would h-have to punish me. (sob) Make me p-pray that I was d-dead. He hit me m-more, (sob) relentlessly b-beating me down further and further. He said, 'I'll h-have to cure you' and 'I can make you u-u-u-understand the (sob) error of your ways'."

"Then, h-he ordered me to (sob) take my c-clothes off."

_Oh God, no_, Tara thought, hoping that what she was thinking wasn't actually about to happen. Fiona could barely keep herself together, her intense sobbing now shaking the bed as tears streamed down her face.

"I r-refused, and he h-hit me again. (sob) I asked him w-what h-he was g-going to d-do to (sob) me. I've never s-s-seen him l-look so angry, so f-f-full of hate. H-he looked at m-me with d-disgust and said," Fiona struggled to get the words out, every painful memory rushing through her, making her relive all of the pain, fear and humiliation of that night.

"H-he said, 'I'm going to _fix_ you'. And then… h-he… he…"

Fiona couldn't speak anymore. Everything was simply too intense for her to bear. She was reliving each moment, each painful, dreadful, pulsing moment that had caused her so much trouble throughout her life. Suddenly, Tara reached over and pulled Fiona into a tight hug. She couldn't bear to hear any more of the story, knowing full well what was about to be said. She believed that if she never heard it spoken, then it couldn't be true. It had to be untrue; it simply _had_ to be. Fiona was currently reliving hell, and Tara needed to do whatever she could to guide her friend through it.

Fiona felt like she needed to say more. She could have said how every second felt like someone burning her flesh away from her. She could have said how her mother let it go on for an hour before she finally called the police. She could have said how despite moving in with a foster family, she still couldn't escape her past. She could have said how it took months of therapy for her to stop considering suicide. She could have said how she was still alone at her new school, and how she was still taunted all throughout the rest of her life. She could have said that every time she looks at herself in the mirror, she still sees nothing but a monster. She could have said that every night this time of year, she relives every moment of her past in her nightmares, and starts to wish that she would die again. She even could have said that no matter what happens in the future, she'll always be haunted by a tragic incident in her past that was caused by nothing other than absolute hate. She could have said that, but she didn't. Everything hurt so much, that she felt like she didn't have the strength to say anything anymore. All she managed to choke out through her sobs was,

"How could anyone hate someone _so much_, just because of who they are?"

It was a question that Tara greatly considered throughout the night, as she never left Fiona's sobbing form for many hours, even until the sun came up.

* * *

Celestia and Wilson had no proper explanation for The Beast. While he explained his motives, Tara had never found out why he had such unnatural talents. Wilson simply said that he would look into the matter, clearly not as interested as the girls were. But it was still nice to be back at Camelot, and the girls took no time getting to their beds for a nice long sleep. Even as they crawled into bed, Fiona and Tara were still talking to each other. They were placed across from each other, and kept their conversation going from the long car ride back.

And honestly, Dash was sick of it. Throughout the seven hour car ride, those two girls never seemed to stop their conversation, and if Dash didn't know any better, she'd say that the two had never seen each other in years with the amount of things they talked about. In truth, Tara and Fiona were already great friends, but now their bond appeared to be strengthened to such a degree that it was starting to become a hindrance to Dash's mental health. She was pretty sure that even Pinky did not speak this much. It was late in the night, and Tara and Fiona were still quietly talking to each other, right above Dash's head. It had gotten to the point where she couldn't fall asleep, and she was getting very annoyed with their behavior. Finally, she called out.

"Will you to dykes stop making out up there?! I'm trying to get some fucking sleep," she called out above. While Fiona didn't really know how Tara would respond, Tara took the comment in quite the joking manner.

"Calm down, Dash," Tara teased. "We're just having a conversation." Dash rolled her eyes.

"Just shut up, will ya?" Dash said, closing her eyes. "And if I here you two having sex above me, I will freak the fuck out. Fair warning." With that, the girls decided that it would be best to stop their conversation for the night, and perhaps get some sleep of their own. Tara sighed.

"Well, good night, Fiona," Tara said while rolling over to get some sleep. Fiona smiled at the comment.

"Good night to you to, Tara," Fiona spoke. She was very glad that Tara seemed to fully accept their friendship. And while Fiona did doubt that she would get what she truly wanted, for now, she was content with just having a friend again.

Fiona closed her eyes, and for the first time that week, she had a nice, long, relaxing dream.

**End of Chapter 3**


	6. Chapter 4: The Ballad of Discord

******Note: If anything in the following story is worth noting, positive or negative, good or bad, leave a comment about via review. If every person who read this sentence left a review, the impact would be incredible. We at GodSaveTheKings greatly appreciate feedback, as it substantially helps with the writing process. So please, make your voice heard.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Ballad of Discord**

**Part 1 of 2: Striking Back**

_It was a day like no other. A day made simply to admire the absolute beauty of the world. And luckily on this day, the carnival once again returned to Bay View, Illinois, as it did every year. And it was AJ's favorite time of year, for it was the day that her father got off from work, and her mother could focus a little bit more of her attention on her. Of course, AJ knew quite well that someone in her family required far more attention than her. Even at the incredibly bright young age of five, (which she considered the perfect age for anyone to be) she understood that it was truly the infant that required the most intention. After all, her sister was barely a half-year in age. Now much later in the day as the four of them sat in the car, driving home from a long, luxurious day at the carnival. She had done all of the proper things that were a must whenever going to a carnival. She rode the Farris wheel, she ate some candy apples, she played lots of fun games, and she got to spend time with her parents, which she loved the most. Now, she was sitting in the backseat of the car, her father driving while her mother nesting the baby in her arms. Atop her head was a small present from her mother, something won at the carnival in order to make up for the lack of attention. _

_ "Now honey," said the mother as they pulled into their driveway. "My mother is going to come for a visit this weekend." AJ's father groaned like a toad._

_ "Dang it, you know she hates me," AJ's father whined. They got out of the car, and made their way to the house. It was a simple house, not two stories tall, painted white, and located on the side of a large hill. It didn't seem like much, but AJ loved it ever so much. It held quite the charm to her, and she enjoyed its simplistic nature greatly. Her father ran a hand through his spiky blonde hair, before holding the door open for his wife._

_ "But she hasn't seen little Katie yet," the mother spoke, entering the house. "And AJ loves it whenever Granny visits. Isn't that right, AJ?"_

_ "Oh yeah," AJ said happily. "I love it when Granny comes to play. Is she coming here soon?"_

_ "Hopefully not," said AJ's father, locking the door. AJ giggled._

_ "Granny doesn't like your funny haircut," AJ laughed. Her father leaned down to her level, and gave a half-serious look._

_ "Now Anna-Jean, it's not nice to make fun of other people's hair," he scolded. However, his intentions were not mean, as he removed her hat and rubbed her hair, making AJ laugh more. "Besides, you're the one who has to wear this funny hat!"_

_ "You're silly daddy!" AJ squealed in delight. She didn't always get to see her father, but he was always so sweet when she finally did. He picked her up, and placed her on his back, running around the house with her, as she pretended she was soaring across the sky like an eagle. But her mother was against having fun (at least it was what AJ believed,) and she opened the door to the backyard._

_ "Matthew, stop running around the house. You'll break a vase, or worse, your hip," AJ's mother scolded. "At least run around outside."_

_ "Carol, I'm thirty-two," the father laughed. "Come on, AJ, we are needed outside!" With a heroic gesture, AJ was carried outside. As she passed by her mother, she made sure to make a face at her younger sister, which was greeted with many giggles from the infant. She wasn't sure how long she spent playing with her father, but every moment felt great. They played many games together, and AJ was continually having a blast. Her mother appeared at the backyard gate, as AJ and her father were lying on the ground, playing a lovely game of I Spy. She looked slightly worried, but her father looked over to her with no fear._

_ "Matthew, could you come here for a minute?" she asked. She had put the baby in the crib a few minutes prior. "I think something might be wrong with the oven." AJ's father sighed, before standing up._

_ "I'll be right back, AJ," he said with a smile, before jogging inside. AJ looked up above at all of the beautiful clouds flying overhead. She saw many fantastic shapes in the clouds. She saw a bunny rabbit. She saw a car. She even thought that she saw a pretty bird._

_ And then, her house exploded._

* * *

**October 18th, 2015**

"Fucking wake up, already!" Dash shook AJ ferociously, forcing the girl to awaken from her dream. She heard the alarm bells sound around her, signaling her to wake up, but she was in such a deep sleep that she failed to notice. It wasn't often that she slept so heavily, but it was such a pleasant little dream. Of course, now, the exact nature of the dream was lost, but she was certain that she didn't want to wake up from it. But it was no matter now, as she and the rest of the girls headed off for the daily training.

"Ugh," AJ let out a moan as she stood up. "Man, I am tired."

"Just get up," Dash complained. "You're one of the few people can actually stand to speak to." AJ took the compliment half-heartedly, and she finished getting dressed with the others. As per standard, the girls spent till noon training and going over strategies and planning. AJ was used to the vigorous training schedule, and she was glad to see the others were adjusting accordingly. She saw Pinky at the shooting range, showing off a deep love of psychopathic range as she swapped between guns at lightning pace and firing off the rounds with expert precision. Rachel was enjoying herself in the large pool, (now wearing appropriate attire). She swam many laps back and forth, showing off much grace in her form. And meanwhile, Fiona and Tara were sparring, having their own conversation that AJ couldn't quite make out.

"You promise that you won't tell anyone?" Fiona said, dodging another jab.

"Fiona, I told you before, if you won't tell them, then I will respect that," Tara said while trying to stay light on her feet. "But you _do_ know that you'll have to tell them eventually. You are _living_ with these people, after all."

"I'll tell them," Fiona said shyly. "Eventually. When I find the best time." She caught a glimpse of Rachel swimming behind Tara, and quickly turned away. She danced around Tara, so that her back was now facing the pool. Tara was confused by the maneuver, until she noticed that Rachel happened to be swimming in a rather form-fitting one-piece swimsuit, which did not leave much to the imagination. She smirked.

"Is she really _that_ attractive?" Tara questioned, throwing a kick at Fiona's head, which was easily dodged.

"Who?"

"You know who," Tara smirked again. Fiona blushed. "I mean, _I_ never saw it, but is she really so pretty that you can't even _look_ at her right now?"

Fiona didn't know how to answer the question. It wasn't like she had ever been asked that sort of question before, and she was really quite taken aback.

"Look Tara," Fiona said nervously, as she couldn't help but notice Tara's huge grin of delight from watching Fiona stammer about. "Just because I'm gay, doesn't mean that you can just ask me all of these questions and expect some kind of interesting response. I am a _person, _you know. I have my own kind of opinions about people, too." But after this, she looked away and sighed. "But yeah, she's really, really, _really_ attractive. Probably one of the most beautiful people in the world."

"Oh," Tara said, with some small satisfaction. "Well, glad _that's_ all out in the open."

"But I don't want to date her, or anything! Or anyone else, for that matter!" Fiona quickly stated, making sure she wasn't misinterpreted. Tara smirked again.

"Are you sure?" Tara asked. "Because I could totally call her over here right now, in her bathing suit, and all." Fiona blushed furiously. "Or maybe, she could give you a nice, big hug, since it'd be so nice for her to dry off on something. You know, since she is _soaking _wet right now."

By this point, Fiona couldn't take any more humiliating (and mostly effective) teasing. So, she began swinging at Tara again, breaking off her spew of mental images as she was forced to dodge punches. While the two were now fighting on one end of the training facility, along with the rest of the girls, the other end was only filled with one soul. Although Dash didn't mind being alone. She welcomed it. It gave her time to think, while also pushing her to do her hardest. She was currently beating on a sandbag, quickly striking it with a quick, unrivaled fury. Occasionally, she would look over and see the others, chatting away, laughing, and wasting their time getting to know each other. Dash couldn't believe it. She couldn't understand why everyone was so eager to become friends with everyone else. Sure, she had some form of friendship with Pinky, and she didn't mind talking to AJ on occasion, primarily because the former didn't mind the things Dash usually said, and AJ sometimes told stories of her past missions, which sparked the adventuring need inside of Dash's chest. But she didn't have any long term emotional attachments, because she knew that in doing what she did, there was a strong chance that someone was going to die. And she knew that when someone did finally get gunned down, she would be the only one staying calm enough to properly take charge of the situation. That was a problem she had with Tara's leadership.

In fact, it was one of many problems that Dash had with Tara's leadership. Although she had to admit that the raid on Discord's base was rather successful, she felt like Tara had made some of the worst decisions she had ever seen anyone do under the title of "leader". Some of it was nitpicking, like how Tara never bothered using a gun in battle. To Dash, it seemed like a surefire way to get killed. But so far, it had not interfered much. Besides, Fiona didn't even kill her opponents, and she was turning out to be one of the most capable fighters on the team. But, there were clear problems in Tara's decision making also. Like, for example, not taking the most experienced soldier of the group into the base of one of the most dangerous crime syndicates on the planet. Or, making her own soldiers walk around a town that they didn't know in the middle of the night, all while a psychopathic murderer was on the loose. All of it just bugged Dash, and after just two weeks, she felt like she was going to lose it. She felt like she need to enforce some change into the ranks, before Tara decided to start a suicide mission and choose Dash as the operative who has to trigger the bomb while everyone else escapes.

It was around eleven when Wilson called for the girls to be brought to the Briefing Room. By this time, Dash had pushed each piece of gym equipment to its limit, Pinky had thoroughly depleted about one third of the available ammunition, and, much to Fiona's relief, Rachel had stopped swimming, and was now wearing some decent clothing. When they arrived at the Briefing Room, they were greeted with a bright smile from Wilson, and a somewhat less cheery, yet equally delighted smile from Celestia.

"Wonderful news, ladies," The General proudly stated. "Due to your recent efforts, we have decided to let you have the rest of the day free from any new mission assignments." This news was met with incredibly positive reception, as the girls jumped for joy at their first true break from combat in two weeks. However, Tara wasn't happy, instead somewhat confused at Wilson's decision.

"Why are you doing that?" Tara asked. "I mean, shouldn't we be doing something? Anything at all?"

"There is nothing _to_ do, Tara," Celestia said with certainty. "The Smiling Dragons haven't been seen in days. Their criminal activity is at a record low. And Philadelphia is experiencing one of the least violent weeks in seven years."

"But there's still so much we don't know," Tara reasoned. "What about The Beast? We still don't know anything about him. What if there are more people like him out there? And we still don't have any information on The Unknown. We don't even know if there _is_ an Unknown. What if The Beast is working with him? What if-"

"Tara, please calm yourself," Wilson strongly stated. "We are putting all of our research staff into this Beast dilemma. Of _course_, we are considering a possible connection with Discord. But there is no information on him anywhere. We can't explain his bizarre condition, but if what he said is true, then he really won't be much of a problem. As for The Unknown," he paused. "There is nothing stating that this bit of information is true. We've been meaning to tell you; we have no information of this person or group. More than likely, it was just the insane ramblings of a madman."

Tara looked to Celestia to support, but the woman was simply staring at the ground, letting Wilson speak. Tara knew that Celestia had her own beliefs about the terrorist threat that faced them; she had heard them herself. But it appeared that Celestia was unwilling to speak. Suddenly, a voice spoke from behind her.

"Spark, their giving us a fucking vacation," she heard Dash say. "Just stop PMSing for once and have some fun, will you?" Tara groaned, trying not to let Dash's comment bug her.

"Alright," Tara finally said. "I guess we'll have to find something to occupy ourselves for rest of the day."

"Actually, Tara," Rachel spoke up with a happy smile. "I believe I know where we can start, at the very least."

"Excellent," Wilson stated. "You are dismissed." The girls left the room peacefully, but Tara noticed how distracted Celestia seemed to be. Although she did not say anything, Tara was quite certain that Celestia had objected to Wilson's idea of a break for the same reason Tara did. It gave Tara some comfort knowing that Celestia supported her, but it still did not help that they were taking a break when they both knew that there was so much work to be done. But perhaps it was something to worry about later, as they now were stepping outside, and Rachel led them onwards.

* * *

"So why did you drag us here?" Dash asked in her boredom. The six of them were currently seated in a diner not far from Camelot, which Rachel was very happy for remembering the name of. "And why did you order for us?"

"Because you would have picked the wrong thing," Rachel stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"But you ordered us all burgers," Fiona mentioned. "And I'm a vegetarian. So, what will I eat?"

"Eat the fries," AJ told her. "They were pretty damn good."

"Wait," Dash said in questioning. "You're a vegetarian? Why? It's not like the fucking cows won't be killed anyway."

"I don't feel comfortable about it," Fiona simply said. Rachel felt sorry for her friend.

"Well, you're going to regret that life choice in about fifteen minutes," Rachel said smugly. Tara interjected.

"Rachel, a few things," Tara started to say. "First of all, when did you ever get to actually try the burger from this place, anyway?" Rachel blushed at the comment, remembering that she had never actually told Tara that she had eaten part of her friend's meal.

"Um… funny story about that bit, actually…"

Tara sighed.

"I thought so. Second question: What if it's not as good as you remember? What if you were just so hungry that anything would have tasted good to you?" Rachel gasped, as if Tara was saying something entirely sacrilegious.

"It better not be," Rachel said in defense. "That was the kind of food that made me wish I moved to America about ten years ago. And last I remember, I didn't make mistakes when it came to good taste. I'm _me._ So as far as you should be concerned, this is the best bloody cheeseburger in the entire goddamn world. You're lucky I even took you to this place. I could have kept this little treasure trove to myself."

"Jeez, you didn't have to come off as such a bitch about it," Dash muttered under her breath. But Rachel picked up on the comment, and she quickly turned to the rainbow-haired girl.

"And you don't always have to insult people about every little fuck up they do," Rachel spat back. Soon, the conversation turned rather aggressive, and Tara noticed that the girls were starting to attract attention from other people in the restaurant, which unfortunately was quite full.

"Girls, can you quiet down?" Tara asked. "You're kind of disturbing the peace." Rachel and Dash managed to restrain themselves, and they tried their best to remain quiet until the food came. The next few minutes were filled with small conversations, as the girls spoke of modest subjects. That was until Pinky decided to actively join the conversation, which then took off to become a series of long, mostly imaginary stories that Pinky experienced in her childhood. She was just finishing her story about the time that she thought she saw a Sasquatch, when the food finally arrived. Six cheeseburgers, maxed out with toppings and condiments, were slid in front of the girls for their eating pleasure. While Fiona subtly pushed her food away from herself, trying her best to ignore the intoxicating smell of the beef patty, the other girls cautiously picked up the burger, and took a bite. And immediately, they were greeted with an astounding taste that made them moan in delight.

"Okay," Tara said in defeat. "_That_ is really good."

"Yeah," Dash managed to say through a mouthful of food. "I hate to admit it, but you're actually right about something."

"Normally, I'd be offended by something like that," Rachel said. "But honestly, I _really_ don't care right now. Oh God, that's good!"

"This…" said Pinky, staring at her food, unable to formulate words to describe what lay before her. "This is the greatest thing I have ever eaten in my whole life."

"Um, Pinky…"

"I must sing songs of praise to it. It must be shown the most cordial respect in the universe," Pinky said, as if in a trance. "Is this what it feels like to be in love?"

"Pinky, it's a sandwich," AJ said calmly, taking her leisurely time eating the burger. Pinky was stunned by the comment.

"No! It is _the_ sandwich!" Pinky said, holding the burger close to her heart. Fiona handed her cheeseburger over to Pinky.

"Take mine then," Fiona offered. "I don't really have much of a use for it anyway."

"You can show it _compassion_!" Pinky shouted towards the shy girl. She took the other burger, and was now holding to separate sandwiches and caring for them as if they were her own children. She whispered lovingly to the patties. "There, there. The big meany Fiona can't hurt your feelings any more. You're safe with me." Pinky was so caught up in her deep love for grilled meat, that she completely ignored the stares she was receiving from her friends.

"So…why do we hang out with Pinky again?" Dash asked. As the stares around Pinky diminished, Rachel began to tell her plan for how the rest of the day should be spent.

"Next, we go to the nearest fashion store and shop our hearts out," she said enthusiastically. "Then, of course, there are the spa treatments, the late night gatherings, the _boys_ we could meet here."

"Look, Germain," Dash spoke, unimpressed. She took another large bite of her burger. "I don't know what you used to do in that fucking island of yours, but count me out of it. There isn't a chance in Hell that I would be involved in that shit. I'd rather _die_ than be a part of it."

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" Shouted a voice from the entrance of the restaurant. The girls looked over, and saw a very familiar man standing at the door. His black suit was pinstriped with white, and his black fedora was crooked on his head. But his face paint was exactly the same as Tara had remembered, yellow and black twisted into a sadistic grin. Two men were standing next to him, each holding assault rifles. And in horrible memory, Tara froze.

"THIS IS A FUCKING HOSTAGE SITUATION!"

_BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG_

The two men did not fire into the crowd of people, but instead opened fire in the air, causing the innocents to hide under the table in fear. Discord proudly walked around the restaurant, as two more men came in, carrying two large sacks.

"Now, nobody be alarmed," Discord said. "There is nothing to fear from us. Everyone, just remain calm. We have a little bit of business to attend to. We are quite the hospitable folk, you see. Now, my buddy Franco here is going to come around to each of your tables and collect your cell phones _and/or_ mobile devices." As Discord spoke, one of the men ran about the restaurant, as people placed their cell phones into the empty sack. Immediately after this, a second man walked up to the people, reached into the bag, and pulled out two one-hundred dollar bills to place on the tables.

"As compensation for this inconvenience, we members from the Smiling Dragons are going to pay for your meals today," Discord said proudly. "Please, continue eating! I have some business to attend to…" Discord looked around the diner, before spotting the table at which the girls were sitting. He slowly walked towards them, grinning what looked like a smile of comfort. "There they are! There! They! _Are_!"

He began slowly clapping, as he reached their table. He looked around him, as if asking for the other diners to join in his deranged applause.

"Do you know how long I've been tracking you guys down?" Discord asked the girls. They didn't move, unsure of how to react to the psychopath's bizarre behavior. He pulled up an empty chair, and sat down at the table. "My men have been hunting you down for an _eternity_. I'm ever so glad to see you again. Please, don't let me interrupt your dining. _Eat_." Discord spoke with an utmost pleasantness that shook Tara to her core. It was the way he spoke, the way he looked at them with such negligence, as if he were a god, and they were simply little children. He acted like he was invincible, which, as Tara soon realized, he practically was. Even if she wasn't frozen in fear, and she tried to do something, she couldn't. She was surrounded by armed goons, who didn't look like they would be so easily scared off as the others. As the girls silently contemplated their next actions, Pinky took another bite of her burger, receiving glares from her teammates.

"What?" Pinky asked through a mouthful of beef. "He said _eat._ Besides, it's a good burger."

"Good, I like you," Discord said to Pinky, winking. "Now, on to business. The last time I saw you girls was, well, when you blew up my drug operation. Literally. Do you know how much money you cost me? How many hired idiots you blew away? Granted, they were nothin' more than ass-wiping, cock-jerking pricks, but still, I wasted good money on them. Not to mention, I smuggled enough meth to put Walter White to shame. I had a good thing going. And then, you _attacked_ me. That is _not_ very nice."

"So, what are you going to do? Kill us?" AJ asked fearfully. She always had a gun on her, and she was fairly certain that Dash had one as well, but she didn't have the time to take a shot. She noticed Discord was starting to let some of his anger out, his smile starting to fade.

"Normally, I would," Discord said, honestly. "Trust me, I love nothing more than taking extreme pleasure in the deaths of innocent people. And typically, I would make you fuckers play Russian Roulette with each other until you blow each other's heads off. But see, you _destroyed_ my base of operations. You cost me roughly thirty million dollars. So I brought in the cavalry."

He stood up from the table, and looked out the window closest to the group. "See, I got this specialized unit of troops scattered throughout the city. I call them Hound Dogs. See, I don't just want to kill you. I want you to be fucking scared _shitless_. I want to see you run and beg for your lives before someone puts a bullet through your brain. And I don't think I can properly encompass that feeling by sitting here, and slowly executing you." Discord motioned for the girls to stand up. They cautiously did, not wishing to anger the man who was holding them at gunpoint. They walked to the entrance of the restaurant, and Discord motioned for them to stand outside.

"So, here's what's going to happen," Discord said proudly. "I'm going to give you sixty seconds. After that, I am going to order my men to try to kill _and/or_ capture and torture you. Either or. So, I best recommend that you run as far away from here as possible. Got it? Good."

"What is he doing?" Rachel whispered to Tara, noticing that her friend was deathly afraid.

"I… I think he's going to hunt us," Tara whispered fearfully. "Like wild animals."

"Sixty seconds starts _now_!" Discord shouted, interrupting Tara's words. She paused for a moment, thinking of what to do. She knew that she would be shot dead before any of them could try to shoot Discord. That much was clear. She regretted not having her sword with her. She couldn't do much with it, but she would have felt much safer knowing that she had a weapon.

"So, Spark," Dash asked Tara. "What's your master plan for getting out of this one?"

There was no reply. She looked behind her, and saw that Tara, leading the rest of the group, had bolted off in the opposite direction, accidentally leaving Dash standing alone in front of Discord.

_ Motherfucker, _thought Dash angrily, before she took off after her teammates.

Discord sighed at his good work, happy that the girls were already panicking before even ten seconds had passed. He calmly walked back into the restaurant, and looked around at ll of the nervous occupants. One of his men walked up to him for orders.

"Okay, Billy," Discord said with a grin. "Make sure to tell the Dogs that the bitches have scattered, and now it's time to go _ape-shit_ on 'em." He paused for a moment, before adding, "Oh, and waste these fuckers, will ya?"

The man nodded, and within three seconds, gunfire rang throughout the diner, as people collapsed to the ground in pools of blood. Happy with his work, Discord walked to the table where the girls were previously sitting. Surrounded by the chaos and screams of innocent civilians dying, he picked up the remains of one of the burgers that used to belong to Pinky, and took a bite.

_Oh,_ Discord thought as he heard women and children beg for their lives. _That _is _good._

* * *

As Tara rounded another corner, Dash finally managed to tackle her to the ground. The other girls managed to stop in their tracks, as Tara rose in anger and confusion.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Tara shouted. She brushed herself off as Dash replied in equal frustration.

"What is wrong with_ you_?!" Dash yelled. "A maniac tells us we have sixty seconds to live, and you just fucking run away?! Did you even _notice_ you left me behind?! What are you thinking?!" Tara felt rather paranoid at this time, mostly ignoring Dash's rage and constantly looking around her for signs of trouble. Meanwhile, Dash had started to complain to the other girls, saying how she couldn't believe that everyone had simply followed along with Tara's outrageous behavior.

"Look, we've learned it's better to trust Tara's ideas than not to," Rachel said. "Honestly, I think she has a good plan she's waiting to tell us right now."

However, AJ was not as convinced. While at first, she thought Tara did have some form of strategy ready, now that she saw the terrified look in her friend's eyes, she believed that Tara was not using rational thought, but rather pure instinct to guide her. In fact, she wasn't even responding to Fiona's current attempt to ask for information, instead, she was sifting her weight uncomfortably to stay light on her feet.

"Um, Tara, you _do_ have a plan," AJ tried to confirm. "Right?"

"Um…" Tara tried to think. She had to focus; it was the only way to survive. So then why was it so hard for her to concentrate? Surely when she was in a life threatening situation, she would be the most rational. But she couldn't stop thinking about the shooting at Ymerton, the feeling of dread that told her she was being hunted at every turn. A sense of terror was taking control over her, and she felt nothing but irrational fear. "We… we have to..."

"Okay, fuck _that_ bullshit," Dash said. "I got an idea: Why don't we run back to Camelot, get some fucking guns, and take these bastards head on?"

"No, that… that won't work," Tara said, starting to calm down. "If we are being hunted, the last thing we want to do is make Discord learn the location of our base. Besides, we'd never make it."

"Okay, so what do we do?" Pinky asked frantically. It seemed like Tara's panicked behavior was rubbing off onto her, and the last thing Tara needed was more panic in the ranks.

"I… I don't know," Tara said honestly. "Give me a minute to think."

"We don't _have _a minute to think!" Pinky yelled out in a crazed state. "Everyone is freaking out, and I can't take it anymore! All I wanted to do with my life is take care of my nice little burger children, and move to Japan, and fight Godzilla like my great ancestors did! But now it's ruined! It's all ruined!"

"Pinky, calm down!" Rachel shouted at her friend, who was acting more off-the-wall than usual. "We don't have time for you t-… wait, you're Japanese?!"

Suddenly, AJ heard a rustling coming from about twenty feet back. It wasn't much, just a small little amount of movement of someone realigning themselves. With quick realization, she did the first thing that came to her mind. Her training kicking in, she pulled out her gun, turned around, and fired three shots.

And the civilian who made the rustling jumped back as the bullets nearly struck him in the legs.

"What the fuck, lady!" he shouted in anger, before walking away. AJ felt an incredible sense of embarrassment rush over her, as her gunshots ended the conversation they were having, and stared at AJ, who was fuming.

"Jesus, AJ, show some fucking self-restraint," Dash said. Unfortunately for AJ, she had attracted all of the attention towards herself, which meant that no one noticed that a man in full body armor was kneeling down at the other end of the street. A sniper rifle in his hand, he lined up his sights with AJ's head, steadied himself, and slowly pulled the trigger.

But alas, another bystander happened to be jogging down the street at this time, late for an important meeting. In his haste, he lost his footing, and collapsed onto the criminal, causing him to lose his accuracy, and shoot past AJ's head. The girls became alerted to the man's presence, and bolted off into a nearby alleyway. The criminal recovered, and in his anger, he attempted to shoot the man who had hit him. But he had already recovered and was running away, and the Hound Dogs had much more important task at hand. He pressed his hand to his ear, triggering his earpiece, and he alerted the rest of his unit to the girls' location.

As they ran through the alley ways, AJ kept her gun at the ready on the likely chance that more soldiers would show up. Dash handed her own weapon to Pinky, in hopes that she would maintain higher accuracy, despite the fact that rage was building up inside of her, and Dash wanted desperately to shoot someone in the face. Tara was struggling to come up with any viable options of escape.

She reevaluated her situation. She was being hunted throughout the entire city by madmen. Discord had said that they would not stop until the P.O.N.Y's were either dead or captured, and neither option suited well for her. Right now, the only thing that she could think of was to keep running, and hope that the Hound Dogs lost track of her. But if Discord was to be believed, then there was no where she would be safe, not even back at Camelot. She wished she had a map of the area, just so she could know where she was headed.

The girls exited the alley, and came to a crowded street area. Many people were bustling about this place, meaning that the Hound Dogs could be located anywhere. Rachel pulled out her phone, and quickly pulled up a map of the area.

"Okay, we are…" Rachel said, triggering her GPS system. According to this, we are about roughly three miles from the nearest gun store. If my knowledge of the American measuring system is correct, that's not very far. I recommend we head there for safety."

"We might not last three miles," Tara quickly said. Her words began flowing much faster and more panicked. "Anything else nearby?"

"You mean a place where we can hide? Dozens," Rachel said. "But we have limited firepower, and if they find us-"

"We die, I know," Tara finished. "But is there anywhere that contains _something_ we can use as weapons. Lumber stores, car dealerships, even any buildings with high security?"

"Not that I can see," Rachel said, scrolling through her phone. Suddenly, more gunshots rang out, sending panic through the streets. The girls ducked and ran for cover, finding their help in the form of a parked bus. They hid behind it as the Hound Dogs started to swarm in on their position. Tara thought of a way out of her predicament. She leaned out of cover to survey the environment. She was able to see five men, each with rifles and customized body armor, painted with dog imprints to show their capability as elite fighters. However, she had to quickly duck back into cover to avoid the bullets whizzing past her skull.

"We need to get out of here!" Tara exclaimed. Fiona, who had been following Tara till this point, decided to take some initiative. She stood up, and ran to the door of the bus. The vehicle was deserted at this time, meaning that no one could open the locked bus. But Fiona started kicking the door, trying to break in the door. After several frustrated kicks simply bounced off of the glass, she decided to snatch the gun out of Pinky's hand, and shot through the glass, breaking the door apart. The kickback sent her wrist cracking back. She screamed, and clutched her wounded wrist as she dropped the gun to the floor. AJ picked up the second gun, grabbed onto Fiona, and guided the both of them through the shattered door, making sure to avoid cutting themselves. The rest of the girls filed into the vehicle.

They quickly sat down, as Dash took Rachel's phone and went to the driver's seat, and started to hotwire the bus. As crucial seconds ticked away, AJ started to take a look at Fiona's hand. It seemed like she might have broken the wrist from the kickback, or at least something bad enough to nearly bring Fiona to tears (which AJ considered might be easier than not). Dash finally managed to start the bus, and slammed on the gas. The bus lurched forward as bullets bounced off of its side. AJ tossed her spare gun back to Pinky, who now leaned out the window and started shooting back at the Hound Dogs. Most shots bounced off of their armor, yet one bullet managed to penetrate through a weak point on the neck, passing straight through the man's jugular.

It was rather unfortunate that Dash didn't know how to drive the bus. She constantly crashed into things, and while attempting to make a sharp turn, she nearly flipped the vehicle over on its side. She had once heard that a special license was needed to drive a large truck or bus. She supposed that this meant she was committing a crime, but she didn't really care. After all, it wasn't her first time breaking the law, and she had far more pressing matters at hand. She tried her best to navigate the narrow streets, making sure she didn't hit any cars traveling past her. Pinky kept a watchful eye behind her, making sure she didn't see any cars tailing them. Whenever she did see someone start to follow the bus, she immediately shot out the tires, or if they were on foot, took a quick shot to their head or legs. It wasn't a very steady ride for the girls, however. They were constantly were thrown around in their seats due to Dash's driving, and they slammed into each other and the seats themselves. Pinky was rammed into the windows at such frequency that she nearly dropped her gun several times in her attempt to stay balanced. Finally, after what seemed like hours of maneuvering, Dash finally reached the gun store.

Placed on the corner of a busy intersection, Johnny's Rifle Shop was a modest weapons dealer, selling fancy guns for rather cheap prices. Dash managed to park the car next to the shop (although she nearly crashed into three cars and a fire hydrant). The girls quickly exited the bus, and made their way into the store. The store was rather small, its only key features being a counter, a large rack of weaponry, and a small side exit, used for emergencies. The store was relatively empty, save for the man behind the counter. He dressed modestly, in a green button-up shirt and cargo pants. He had a rather chubby midsection, and big arms, covered in hair. He seemed rather chipper and acted in a rather friendly manner when six teenage girls entered his store in a frenzy, shutting the door quickly behind them.

"Hello, welcome to Johnny's Gun Shop," he spoke. "What can I get you today?" AJ walked up to him, and pulled out a card of identification she kept in her back pocket. She showed it to the man, and his face went white.

"I'm with the Federal Government," AJ stated with authority. "I'm going to need you to get out of this store. _Now_." The man, not wanting to mess with someone from who could possibly shut down his entire business, shuffled out of behind the counter, and moved out of the store.

"And get as far away from here as possible," she yelled, shutting the door behind him. With haste, the girls got to work, taking guns off of the shelf, and examining the place for anything they could use to make a stand. Plenty of shotguns and machine guns were available, as well as several powerful grenades, which AJ knew were illegal to sell.

"No wonder this guy wanted to comply," AJ muttered to herself as she stocked up on ammo. Unfortunately, there was not much she could do to help Tara and Fiona, who would refuse to use the firearms. Rachel was vastly improving with her aim, but she was still ill-adept at hitting a moving target. Dash and Pinky were much more helpful in this case, but still, there was the immediate problem of not knowing how many people the Hound Dog unit consisted of.

"Okay, here's the plan," Tara said. "We'll have layers of defense. Rachel, Dash, get outside by the bus, and take out what you can. AJ, Pinky, stay behind this door, while Fiona and I will get behind the counter. If you're getting overwhelmed, fall back. If all goes well, we should be able to take them down before we get outmatched.

"And if they push us back too far?" Fiona nervously asked.

"Then we make use the grenades and blow this place. We get out through the side entrance, make a run for it," Tara explained. "That's the best I got right now."

It was with mutual understanding that the girls took their positions. Dash and AJ got outside, and knelt down behind the bus. Rachel peered around the corner. She saw roughly a dozen men approaching from one hundred meters away. The people scattered as they sprinted through the streets heading towards the bus. At the doorway, AJ and Pinky took their positions as well, resting against the door frame with machine guns at the ready. The bus was parked just to the left of the doorway, allowing for a nearly perfect line of sight from the girls to the Hound Dogs. Tara was waiting for the perfect moment to order the attack, letting the targets get _just_ close enough to maintain high accuracy. They just had to run a few more meters, and then the stars would align, and they would be easy pickings. But then Dash decided to take initiative. There was no real good reason to do it, but she believed that she saw an opportunity, and being the instinctive person that she was, she took a chance.

Following her namesake, she dashed out from the cover of the bus, shooting at the Hound Dogs while she sprinted to the cover of a nearby car. It was much smaller than the bus, and was not as sturdy, but she figured that it would support her rather nicely. Some of the shots she fired managed to find a target, wounding two of the men, and barely killing one. But this alerted the men to their position, and they immediately opened fire on the vehicles. The element of surprise gone, AJ, Pinky, and Rachel started to fire also, much to the ire of Tara. Fiona covered her ears as best as she could with one hand, cringing from the sound of so much gunfire.

"Were they supposed to do that?!" she asked over the gunfire. Tara groaned.

"No, I don't know what's happening!" Tara yelled back. Meanwhile, Dash had managed to attract most of the attention away from the others, allowing Pinky and AJ to fire some easy shots upon the soldiers. Rachel helped as well, though not as she intentioned. She was given a shotgun to protect herself, as AJ knew that she could not shoot well from a long range, so she was given something to accommodate for that disadvantage. And since the soldiers had now become aware of this fact, they made sue to keep their range, not wanting to avoid being shot by an "expert" at close range. This stopped their advances rater efficiently, giving the girls more time to fire. Dash began firing again, now causing damage on two fronts. More troops fell, and soon, the incoming troops had dissipated by half. Though it was not according to plan, the girls were standing their ground rather well, and AJ actually started to believe in their odds.

And then, reinforcements showed up.

A large bus pulled up about fifty yards away, and roughly twenty more soldiers poured out of it. Without a second thought, they charged at the gun shop, firing their rifles with little care for what they were hitting. AJ tried firing at them, but despite how many men she took down, their charge never weakened, and they became even more aggressive. And it wasn't just AJ who noticed this. Dash now realized what a strategic disadvantage she had. She was all by herself, far away from her point of retreat, facing an incoming horde of better equipped soldiers. It was actually quite the predicament. She was faced with a brief, yet important choice: run or fight. If she fought, her pride would be saved. But if she ran, her _life _would be saved. Most likely. There was still the chance that she would be shot running back into the store, as there was no cover between her and her target, not to mention, the Hound Dogs grew closer with every second. But she liked her chances of going toe-to-toe with fifty men even less. Hoping that she really was the fastest woman alive, she took a chance and sprinted towards the entrance to the shop. Bullets flew by her, and she barely managed to dive through the doors to the store without getting hit. So, as it turned out, her pride would be saved after all. Rachel followed her behavior, and quickly ran to the safety of the shop. AJ slammed the door shut, and promptly locked it, hoping to buy the girls some extra time.

"Okay, that was a failure," Rachel said unenthusiastically. Tara stood up from behind the counter which she was hiding behind, her face red with rage.

"What the hell was that?" Tara demanded.

"I saw an opportunity, and I took it," Dash explained, showing no real sense of regret.

"You could have killed us all!" Tara screamed at her.

"Ladies, we aint gonna live anyway if don't think of a way out of here!" AJ interrupted.

"Okay," said Tara trying to calm down. "We go with Plan B. We are going to need to trigger as many explosives as possible. We leave through the side exit, and hope it takes us to somewhere safe, and that the grenades keep them from chasing us."

"Wait," said AJ, thinking deeply. "What if it doesn't work?"

"It _has_ to work," Rachel reasoned. AJ shook her head. The plan just didn't sound right to her. Not only was it likely that the exit wouldn't take them any further than the next street over, but it was also quite possible the explosions could hurt themselves. Or, there was the chance that they could easily be followed. It didn't feel like the right thing to do.

"If this fails, which is likely," AJ said. "Then they will just gun us down on the spot. But if one of stays behind and covers the others, then it is more likely you could have a chance to escape."

Tara processed this for a moment, before she understood what AJ was recommending. Her eyes went wide.

"No way," Tara said. "There is _no_ way you are getting left behind."

"Tara, I can hold them off," AJ reasoned.

"They'll _kill_ you!"

"Tara, I'd probably die anyway," AJ spoke back with fierce determination. "You can get away while I take the head on. I've faced much worse threats by myself before."

"But…" Tara tried to argue with her.

"Tara, if we blow this place up, we'll probably die in the explosion. And if not, then they'll probably capture and torture y'all for information. If all goes well for me, I can buy you ladies enough time to get back to Camelot, and I can eliminate part of the threat. If they know what I'm worth, then they'll take me alive, or at least attempt it." Tara heard loud banging on the door, and knew that her time was short. She considered her options very carefully, and then nodded towards AJ.

"Good luck," Tara simply said. She moved towards the side exit, and opened it. An alley way was revealed to her, leading to the next street over. She instructed the girls to follow her, which was met with much shock.

"Tara, you can't seriously be leaving her behind," Rachel questioned.

"She'll be alright," Tara told her, trying to show some confidence. Begrudgingly, the girls followed Tara outside into the alley.

* * *

The troops had banged on the door five times, and were starting to feel it budge. By this point, they had put away their guns and pulled out long machetes, a specialty of being part of the Hound Dogs. They knew that the girls were trapped inside the building, and could do nothing to get away from them. Just as they felt they were going to barge in the ladies, they heard the door unlock. It actually startled them a bit. They quickly backed away from the door, and formed a variation of a phalanx, their long blades at the ready. The door then slowly started to open, and made a small crack between the shop and the doorframe. One of the soldiers broke formation, and slowly approached the door. He cautiously pushed it open, seeing if anyone was inside. But he saw no one, just an empty gun shop. He took another step forward, and then a shotgun blast blew his head off.

AJ rolled out of her cover, and made an attack on the phalanx. The Hound Dogs tried to recover their formation, but it was already too late. AJ had rolled into the group, sweeping the legs of two enemies, sending them to the ground. She stood up, as other members back away from her. She pulled up her shotgun again, shooting two men simultaneously, and while the armor saved one man, the other was struck in the neck, and the force of the blast knocked them over as well. One man tried to charge AJ with his machete, but she dodged, successfully grabbing his wrist and disarming him of his weapon. She impaled the man with his own sword, as three new men came to take his place. They surrounded her in a triangle pattern, and they all moved at once. One man took a high swing, but AJ ducked, causing him to cut off the head of one of the other Hound Dogs. While crouched, AJ strongly kicked the third man in the knee, breaking his leg. As he fell to the ground, AJ rose up, grabbing onto his body and using him as a human shield. The first soldier took another swing at her, but his sword became lodged in his ally's neck, as AJ brought him down with another shotgun blast. She threw both men to the ground, and shot another soldier who was running at her. A line of four men approached her, but instead of running, AJ sprinted at them. She ducked the first man's swing, punching him in the gut. She pushed him back into the second man, before slicing both of their heads off at once. For the third man, AJ hit him in the side of her head with her shotgun, before hitting him again in his leg. She moved past his body, and started dodging the swings by the fourth man. She dropped her gun and sword, and grabbed onto the man's arm. She moved behind his back, kneeing his elbow in the process, breaking it. She quickly placed both of her hands on the sides of his head, and snapped his neck. As the wounded man tried to crawl away, she picked up her machete again, and delivered a fatal stab through his chest. As she looked around her, she saw the other soldiers starting to regroup, and she started to rise to her feet to counterattack. But then she felt a gun being pressed to the back of her head.

"You're gonna want to put that sword down now," she heard Discord speak behind her. She let go of her sword in defeat, and raised her hands in the air. She saw a man run up to Discord, looking very defeated himself.

"Sir, we lost the other agents," he spoke drearily. Discord smirked at him, however.

"Don't worry," he said with a grin. "We got one of 'em. And I think we are going to have to treat this one _very_ specially in order to compensate for our loss." The soldier seemed to understand what Discord was saying.

"Oh, of course," he said, somewhat happier. He then spoke to AJ, "You're going to have a _fun_ night, kid."

Two soldiers picked AJ up, and dragged her to the bus, all while Discord kept his revolver pointed at her head. They put AJ onto their bus, as the rest of the remaining Hound Dogs filed in, before the bus drove off to Discord's new hideout.

**To Be Continued…**


	7. Chapter 4: The Ballad of Discord (2)

******Note: If anything in the following story is worth noting, positive or negative, good or bad, leave a comment about via review. If every person who read this sentence left a review, the impact would be incredible. We at GodSaveTheKings greatly appreciate feedback, as it substantially helps with the writing process. So please, make your voice heard.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Ballad of Discord**

**Part 2 of 2: Divisions**

"Obviously, we are going to have to attempt a rescue mission," Wilson stated. "Agent Balle had years of top-secret knowledge that we can't allow Discord to get his hands on."

"Honestly General, I'm more concerned about how Balle was captured," Celestia stated. She turned to the girls, who had been gathered in the Briefing Room back at Camelot. "Miss Sullivan, why did you decide to leave one of your best agents behind?"

"Well," said Tara, who felt very ashamed of her actions. She knew at the time that it was the right thing to do, but now, under the intense scrutiny of her supervisors, she felt much less confident. Her head hung low as she talked. "It was actually AJ's idea. She sacrificed herself to let us escape."

"You shouldn't have let her go," Wilson told the saddened Tara. "Anna-Jean has been known to have an unfortunate tendency to act upon increasingly dangerous and suicidal maneuvers. In fact, the first time she volunteered for a field mission, she was eleven. We've been trying to for years to fix this problem in her behavior. In any case, you shouldn't have acted upon her ideas. There is a reason you are now the Field Leader, and she isn't."

"Actually, I'm starting to wonder if you are now worthy of such a high position," Celestia spoke honestly to Wilson, not minding if Tara heard.

Tara was quite stunned. Celestia had always shown her support for Tara's capabilities, but now, she was quickly changing her position on the subject.

"Why?" Tara asked in her shock. "So I made a tactical error. _One error_. And you want to change leadership because of a goof? Everyone made mistakes out there today. Including," Tara said, quickly glancing back at Dash. "The direct disrespect of my orders."

"But you are supposed to be the leader," Celestia said sternly. "If you're not being followed, then _clearly_, there are some issues of trust amongst your team. You need to work that out by yourselves. The most pressing matter is that Miss Balle is probably being tortured as we speak. She has more knowledge of this organization than any of you combined. If her training fails and she actually _talks_, then the repercussions would be massive."

"So what was I supposed to do? Let her _die?"_ Tara asked, becoming very frustrated. Celestia did not respond, simply looking away from the angered girl, and taking a deep sigh. Wilson redirected the conversation back to his original point.

"I think that's enough of that for now," he said, clasping his hands together. "What we should be focused on now is trying to get Agent Balle back here alive before too much is lost." He pulled out a small metal device, which held a screen that took up half of the space. "At the very least, we know where she is. Thank government security for that. According to this, she is at the Imperial Chinese Restaurant, which means she is still in the city. You will be sent in there tonight. Entrance strategy is yours to decide, same as always. Try not to get yourselves, or Balle, killed." He stood up, followed by Celestia, and went to leave the room. But one last thought struck him. "Oh, and I strongly recommend a change of leadership. It's still your call, but I think it might be for the best. At least, for this mission."

With that, they left the room, leaving the girls alone. Tara sighed, and leaned against one of the many desks. She had heard from AJ that this room was usually full of people who monitored the missions, keeping track of stats, surveillance feeds, and other things of that nature. But for now, the room was empty, and Tara couldn't feel gladder about it. She felt like a failure. She managed to get herself caught in a no-win situation, and now she was facing the price. She felt an incredible guilt washing over her, as she couldn't help but think of AJ, and all of the horrible things that could be happening to her at that very moment. Fiona tried to comfort her friend, but was shrugged away rather harshly. The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence, holding the room in a state of despair.

Until one girl spoke the only thought on her mind, breaking the feelings of discontent and sadness.

"So, who's gonna lead now?" Dash asked with no real sadness in her voice. In fact, during most of Wilson's talk, she had been smirking, glad to see Tara brought down to such a low level. She didn't consider herself a mean person, but she felt very happy to see Tara sad. Maybe because she thought Tara thought herself to be on a higher pedestal than the others, or maybe she just couldn't take Tara's smug claims of passion and honesty. Whatever the reason, her own pride skyrocketed, and she wanted to make sure the next few minutes gave her as much joy as physically possible. "I mean, you know who _I'm_ voting for, of course. But I want to know what you guys think."

Tara stopped staring emptily at her own feet, and looked up at Dash. She was feeling horrible about herself at this time, and the last thing she needed was for Dash to get on her nerves.

"Now's _really_ not the time, Dash," Tara said, annoyed.

"Hey, you heard the General," Dash said with a smirk. "He wants a new leader. He doesn't think you're quite up to snuff. I'm just following orders."

"Don't patronize me, _Rebecca_," Tara said back to her, with no sign of calming down. Fiona quickly glanced at Rachel, who was worrying about the same thing that she was. With wisdom, they both quickly took steps away from Tara and Dash, hoping to avoid the fight that they knew was coming. Rachel also grabbed onto Pinky, who had not yet seen the storm clouds, and dragged her out of the way as well, much to the blonde's annoyance.

"Look, Spark, it's not _my_ fault that you're a failure," Dash said innocently. Tara stopped leaning on the desk, and took an advancing step towards Dash.

"Do you _like_ making people feel like crap?" Tara asked her, her voice lacking emotion. Her bangs were falling in front of her eyes, but she didn't care. She was getting fed up with Dash's constant backtalk.

"When it's you, then _fuck_ yeah," Dash spoke honestly, not feeling the least bit intimidated. "I only talk the way I do to prove a fucking point."

"And what is that point?" Tara asked coldly. She took another step towards Dash.

"That you're not nearly as fucking perfect as your delusional mind thinks you are," Dash smirked. "That you're pathetic; that you have so many deep social issues that you can't see that how fucking badly you treat people."

"At least people _like_ me," Tara said coldly. The words came out as harsh and smug, like she was trying to be cruel. Fiona tried to intervene.

"Um, Tara, that sounded a little-" Fiona started to say, but was cut off when Tara turned and gave her a cold glare.

"Stay out of this, Fiona," Tara spoke sternly. Dash laughed.

"Yeah, stay out of this, Fiona," Dash said with a smile. "We can't let your _inferior_ mind fuck up Spark's perfect argument."

"Don't speak to her like that," Tara said angrily.

"Why not? You just did!" Dash spoke back, keeping her smile on her face. She wanted to stay as calm as possible, make sure that Tara lost her cool before she did. "I thought you were supposed to lead by example? Just another reason why you don't deserve to be in charge."

Tara stepped closer to Dash again, now less than a foot away from the girl. Her lack of emotion was transforming itself into anger and frustration, and she was trying her best to stop it.

"I deserve to lead more than _you_ do," Tara said with venom in her voice. "People chose to follow me. They put their faith in me, and I am the one to lead them."

"Yeah, well, people used to follow Hitler too, and we all know how _that _turned out," Dash argued. "The point is, people make mistakes, and they listen to the wrong people. Idiots have led others for too long, and all it takes is one slip-up for the people to know that they are hearing the wrong words of fucking wisdom."

"So what do you want to do? Throw me out? Adjust me, so I see whatever twisted point of view you see the world from?" Tara questioned. Dash snickered.

"Do you know how I see the world? Do you even know what the fuck you are talking about?" Dash asked with doubt. "You don't know shit about me, Spark."

"But I can take a guess," Tara said, coldly. "See, I've seen the way you act towards others. You don't know a thing about compassion, or kindness, or anything that society wants you to be. All you care about is yourself, and how much you can screw everyone over before your time is up." Dash laughed at this.

"You don't understand _shit_ if that is what you think," Dash said calmly. "I know more about compassion than you ever will."

"Don't lie to yourself, Rebecca," Tara said.

"Come on, Spark," Dash laughed again. "If you're going to intimidate me, find a more threatening insult than my actual _name_. But seriously, you don't think I know about compassion? At least I wasn't the one who left our friends to be tortured."

"Don't act like that was _my_ fault," Tara tried to argue. But Dash responded quickly and with determination.

"Of course, it's _your_ fault!" Dash exclaimed. "You _left_ her behind! You _trapped_ us into that corner! You _failed_ to come up with a plan to save her, and now, you _fucked_ her over! It's entirely your fault. I may not be the best with plans, but at least I would have never left someone behind!"

"It was her decision!"

"Just because she _wanted_ to be left behind, doesn't make it right!" Dash reasoned. "You see, you do this thing where you blame others for your failures, no matter how much it was actually your fault. It's fucking pathetic."

"And you have the tendency to point out every little flaw in humanity, and exaggerate it to the point of complete and utter futility!" Tara yelled at her. "You don't find any logical problems with people; all you do is pick away at them until they hate themselves for all of the small things that they are not!"

"Are you sure I am the one who you have a problem with, then?" Dash asked her. "I wonder how many times did your parents beat you for not reaching their expectations? How much fucked up shit happened in your childhood to make you so afraid of failing at anything?"

"Don't bring my _family_ into this!" Tara yelled at her. "Don't pretend like everyone has to have as bad as a life as you in order for the world to go around."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dash said angrily, finding that it was much harder to stay calm. "At least you fucking _had_ parents. I'm sorry your life was so fucking horrible, living in a giant fucking house, not worrying about your taxes, not struggling to survive every day because you were given everything from birth."

"You know, maybe that's your problem, Rebecca," Tara said. "You didn't have anything growing up. You just lived your little, insignificant life, watching others pass you by. So, in order to make yourself feel less worthless, you have to bring everyone down to your level. Is that why you hate everyone so badly? Because you're insecure?" Dash growled.

"You're calling me insecure?" Dash asked in disbelief. "Who here can't take criticism? Who here wants to keep us all staying in line as to not fuck up her little plans for the future? That's you, Spark! Everything you do is to raise yourself higher on your own fucking podium, so you can continue to feel like you actually accomplished something while _we_ do the hard work!"

"Shut up…"

"Do you want to know what I think of your life?" Dash spoke angrily. "Here's my fucking guess! You were born as part of a wealthy family, and you were given everything you ever wanted! Each day, you were told how special you were, and all of the fantastic shit you were going to be doing in your perfect fucking future! But first, you had to live up to your parents' hope before you could be great!"

"Shut up…"

"So you work tirelessly, making sure everything in your life is perfect so you don't disappoint the only people who could ever _love_ you! You shut everyone out, and build yourself your own little Fortress of Solitude inside your own _fucking_ skull! But it still isn't enough! You try and try, but you need to sacrifice more and more, just so you wouldn't consider yourself a failure in their eyes, because after pushing everything else away, that's all you have _left_!

"Stop talking…"

"And so you become an empty shell, devoid of emotion towards other people! If something goes wrong, it's not because of _you_. It can't be! You worked _too_ _hard_ to make sure that doesn't happen! So you get them out of the equation, so that you can go back to being the queen of the fucking universe! You refuse to listen to anyone, because you can't afford to hear that you _failed_ once again!"

"Just. Be. Quiet."

"You think you are _so_ much better than me, Spark! But we aren't that fucking different after all! You talk about me having no emotion, not caring about anyone other than myself, and how I refuse to get close to people! But you know what, you filthy, disgraceful, hypocritical, dishonest _cunt_?! There's _one_ big difference between you and me! I may not fully care about what happens to others, but at least I don't _pretend_ that I do!"

Tara had heard enough. She was absolutely _furious_. In her rage, she pushed herself right up against Dash, their foreheads pressed together, as Tara stared angrily into Dash's eyes. Her fists were clenched, her teeth gritted together, and, since she was a good two inches taller than Dash, she leaned into the other girl, almost ready to punch her in the face.

"How _dare_ you?!" Tara shouted at her. "How dare you even make that comparison?! I am _nothing_ like you! You are the most uncaring, cruel, emotionless person I have ever met! I can't _believe_ anyone here would ever like you! The only reason why you are still here is because Wilson wants your skills, but aside from that, you're _worthless_!"

"Then what are you going to _do_ about it, Spark?" Dash taunted her. She was also losing her temper, and she wouldn't mind if Tara started a fight with her right now, just so she could hit the smug girl in the face. "Hit me. I fucking _dare_ you. Or are you both a rotten bitch _and_ a coward?"

"That's enough!" shouted Rachel, who was now pushing the girls apart from each other. She had grown tired of hearing them argue, and she needed to stop them before they killed each other. "You two need some time apart! We are _not_ supposed to be fighting each other! Calm down!"

Rachel held each girl apart at the chest, keeping them about a few feet away from each other. Tara was panting, trying to vent out all of her frustration. Dash took a few deep breaths, and then smiled. She smiled smugly at Tara, and then at Rachel.

And then, at lightning speed, she shot out her fist and punched Tara hard in the jaw. Tara collapsed to the ground and clutched her wounded face, as the other girls joined in to push Dash away from the girl on the ground.

"You like that, you fucking cunt?!" Dash shouted at her, taunting her.

Tara looked up at Dash, who was being pushed back against the wall. Tara slowly rose to her feet, and then, with no warning, charged into the pile and tackled Dash to ground. She could no longer contain her anger, as she released a series of punches towards Dash, hoping anything would hit the girl. Dash tried blocking, and threw some elbows of her own at Tara's face. The two rolled on the ground, trying to strike any flesh of their opponent. While the term "catfight" would normally be applied to a battle between two women, Tara and Dash could be considered anything but sexy. The blows they delivered to each other were intense, each impact drawing blood. Finally, after sixty painful seconds, the others were able to pull them apart. Fiona held back Tara, as Rachel and Pinky led Dash out of the room. Dash had several bruises around her eyes and a split lip, and she cursed Tara out as she was dragged out of the room.

"Fucking bitch! I hope you're fucking proud of yourself, you little attention whore! I hope you get fucking raped in your sleep, you fucking cocksu-" Dash was cut off by the door slamming in front of her, leaving Fiona and Tara alone. Fiona pushed Tara away from the door, and forced her to sit on the desk. Tara was breathing heavily, as her body shook with rage. She looked at her feet, because she felt like if she didn't watch them, they would carry her back to the fight. Fiona saw that Tara had a bloody nose, and several cuts along her cheeks and chin. She did her best to calm her friend down.

"She's not worth your time, Tara," Fiona spoke in a very calm manner. "She's _gone_ now. It's okay. Think calm thoughts."

"Fiona," Tara said shakily through her rough breaths. "_No_ _one_ deserves to be spoken to like that." Fiona nodded.

"I know. I know," Fiona said, recalling Dash's words. She shuddered when thinking of such horrible things, especially Dash's last few comments. It made her feel disgusted. "Just stay calm. We're here for you. You know that right?"

Tara paused for a moment, before sighing and slowly nodding.

"Yeah, I… I know," Tara said, her anger slowly being replaced with sorrow. Dash's words had stung her deeply, and, while they _were_ horrible and cruel, they weren't entirely false. "Fiona, you know I do care about you guys, right?"

Fiona smiled at her friend.

"Of course," Fiona responded, although she couldn't help of Tara's erratic behavior from a few nights prior. "Of course."

* * *

The Imperial Chinese Restaurant was opened in early 2014. The original goal was to introduce more culture to the American eating process. It was very well supported by the community, who even donated money to help its opening. The decor was elegantly designed, and the ingredients were fresh. However, it barely lasted a year, after Americans realized they were not comfortable with the eating of dog legs, boodog, and the occasional balut. So, after it became shut down in March of 2015, the Smiling Dragons that it would be the perfect place to take up residence.

Now, with his main warehouse destroyed, half of his troops dead or deserted, and most of his money gone, Discord was marching around the main dining area on floor one, angrily talking on the phone with his superiors. Two Hound Dogs stood on either side of the room, and two more Hound Dogs stood over AJ, who was sitting on the ground, hands tied behind her to one of the many tables.

"Look, I _know_ you're the boss," Discord said, continuing his pacing. "But let me cut off a finger or two? Clip some skin? Beat on her? _Anything_?" The person on the phone responded with something that AJ could not make out, and then Discord sighed. "Fine, she'll be left unharmed until the pickup. But do me a favor, will ya? Cut her tongue out. This bitch has quite an _extensive_ vocabulary when she's pissed."

"Fuck off," AJ said with a grin, purposely to bother her captor. Discord hung up the phone and walked up to her.

"So, here's the deal, kid," Discord said as he pulled out his revolver and twirled it on his finger. "In a few hours, my boss is going to stop by here. During which, he'll judge my progress, and see if I'm bein' a good little boy or not. Then, he's going to take you away from here, back to whatever creepy-ass cave he lives in."

"Why?" AJ asked him.

"I don't fucking _know_," Discord shrugged. "Personally, I think rape. With all of the people I've worked for, it's almost always rape. Or torture. Or sometimes necrophilia. Man, I've worked up with some _fucked_ up people."

Discord reminisced on some memories he had: some of people he killed, some of people that he made kill their families, sometimes of absolutely nothing other than just corpses. He smiled through these thoughts, as AJ quickly capitalized on her chance to gather information.

"What about the people you work for now?" AJ asked. "What are they like?" Discord groaned, and stamped his foot on the ground.

"I _hate_ those fuckers!" Discord shouted. "I _fuckin_ hate 'em. All they ever do is treat me like a fucking kid! Like I got no idea what I'm doin'! 'Discord's a failure' this, or, 'Discord's a failure' that! It's bullshit! I don't see The Unknown doing the shit I do! _He_ never built the world's biggest criminal empire in eight fucking months! I aint never seen him make a million dollars selling meth _alone_!"

"So he _is_ real," AJ thought aloud. Discord snapped towards her direction.

"Of course he's fucking _real_!" Discord screamed. "Motherfucker's been putting me down for way too long. But once he sees _you_," Discord smirked. "Oh, baby, you've been a concern since day one. And when I'm the one to deliver you to him, I'll finally earn my place alongside the others! And then, it'll be chaos all around, baby! Woohoo!"

He jumped for joy, exhilarated by his own sickened thoughts of victory. He was so caught up in the moment, that he didn't even notice AJ's huge grin.

_Thanks for the info_, AJ thought happily. _It seems like someone never saw a James Bond movie._

AJ wasn't worried when Discord's men untied her, picked her up and carried her to the elevator, designed to carry supplies and passengers to any of the three floors. She wasn't concerned when she was thrown into the second floor kitchen, with the door locked behind her and no way out. She wasn't even worried that her hands were still tied behind her back at an awkward and painful angle. She wasn't worried because she knew that as she lay there in wait, P.O.N.Y. would have picked up the tracker in her phone, and Tara would be planning a rescue to save her life. She had gathered plenty of information from Discord, and once she told it to Wilson, huge advancements could be made to stop The Unknown. All she needed to do was get out of the Imperial Chinese Restuarant. Luckily, she knew she had one of the best teams in the world coming to support her.

* * *

"This team is a fucking _disgrace_!" Dash yelled in anger. "If _that_ lifeless bitch is in control, then she'll not only kill AJ, but every fucking one of us!"

Dash was currently being held in the sleeping quarters, with Rachel making sure that she didn't try to leave. Tara and Fiona were still in the Briefing Room, and Pinky was acting a messenger for the group. Since Tara and Dash couldn't stay together in a room without attempting to rip each other's faces off, Pinky was forced to run back and forth between the rooms, negotiating a peace between the girls.

She arrived in the Briefing Room.

"Dash thinks that you are a bad leader, and I don't think she likes your plans of action," Pinky reported.

"Well, Dash wouldn't do any better," Tara snapped. "She doesn't think anything through! She needs to learn self-restraint." Pinky sighed and ran back to the other room. It was approaching five o'clock, and she had been doing this negotiation for hours. While her energy was usually boundless, being around the two arguing women put a serious damper on her mood. She got back to the other room, and started to say her message.

"Tara doesn't think you can control yourself," Pinky said.

"Tell Tara to stick a vibrator up her asshole," Dash responded with a sneer. Pinky sprinted back to the Briefing Room.

"Dash told you to, uh…" Pinky said, rubbing the back of her head. "Well, she said some naughty things, and-"

"Okay, I think that's enough, Pinky," Tara spoke, annoyed. "We've been doing this for hours. AJ is in trouble, and we need to get her out of there." Tara sighed. "Look, I have a plan of how to get her back here, one that _thankfully_ doesn't involve Dash. I say we just postpone this argument, and focus on getting our friend back." Fiona and Pinky were rather surprised by this announcement.

"Um, Tara, how do you exactly plan to do that?" Fiona wondered aloud.

"I'll explain on our way there," Tara said. "But first, we need to take care of some things. Fiona, I need you to go the training room, and silenced weapons and my sword. Pinky, try to get Rachel away from Rebecca."

"How do I do that?" Pinky asked. She wasn't particularly good with deceiving people, especially when she had to go off of her instincts.

"I don't know," Tara admitted. "You can rattle off a hundred thoughts per second. I'm sure you can think of something."

"But I don't actually think about what I say!" Pinky said nervously. "It just comes to me, and then it's gone. How am I supposed to distract Dash? What if she starts yelling at me? She can be really nasty sometimes…"

"Pinky, you can do this," Tara said with assurance. Pinky took a deep breath, and then gave a nod. She jogged out of the room and headed towards Dash and Rachel. She honestly had no idea of how to separate the two, and make sure Dash didn't know what they were up to. If she did find out, she'd be furious, and that was something that Pinky didn't want to see, _ever_. She slowed her pace down, trying to take her time reaching the sleeping quarters. It turned out that slowing down was actually quite hard for her, and she had to carefully guide herself through slow footprints. Hundreds of thoughts raced through her mind at speeds she wished she could be moving at right now. But none of them seemed to help, and now, she found herself standing at the doorway, with no plan or strategy. She wished that she could just find some way to eliminate all variables; find a way to make sure Dash couldn't interfere. And the, she suddenly got an idea. A very wondrous, fantastic, _brilliant_ idea. She pushed in the door to find the two girls where she left them. She smiled.

"Hey, Dash, good news," Pinky said cheerily. "Tara wants to apologize to you." Dash was in disbelief. She had never actually expected Tara to come out with a full apology. She thought that Tara had too much pride to accept defeat. She grinned. Surely, she thought, that this meant Tara had been knocked down a few pegs, and that she had finally seen how awful of a person she really was. Hell, maybe it meant that Tara was willing to give up her position of leadership to Dash directly, officially claiming her to be the better person. Dash stood up with great pride, taking joy in Rachel's rather shocked expression. She happily stepped towards the door, allowing Pinky to lead her.

"It's about time she admitted who was the better man," Dash said as she left the room. Rachel followed her out, unable to believe that Tara would accept defeat to Dash's completely disrespectful behavior. The three of them walked towards the Briefing Room, pride ringing in Dash's heart. They finally arrived, and Pinky opened the door, allowing Dash to step through, a large grin on her face. Tara was surprised to see Dash walk through the door, and she quickly realized that Pinky must have messed up her orders. Dash was smirking at her with such confidence, and it made Tara sick. Dash felt so confident that she didn't even notice when Pinky place three fingers on a certain portion of Dash's collarbone.

"Well, Spark," Dash said in her cocky manner. "I think you got someth-"

Suddenly, Dash's eyes rolled up into her head, and she collapsed to the ground. Rachel jumped back and yelped, while Tara stood up from her seat on the desk, and looked at Pinky with shock.

"What did you do?" Tara screamed. Pinky suddenly started moving quickly again, hopping up and down on her toes, knowing that for every second she talked, it was another second wasted. She grabbed onto Dash's legs, and dragged her under a nearby desk.

"It was the only thing I could think of!" Pinky admitted. "Come on, I don't know how long she'll stay under." She rushed out of the room, and the others, still in shock, followed her. They passed Fiona in the hall, who had several guns cradled in her arms, and a sword strapped to her back. She turned to follow them as they rushed outside the building through the restaurant, and got in the van parked outside. As Tara started up the car, Rachel asked Pinky the one question on her mind.

"Pinky, where the hell did you learn to do that?" Rachel asked in bewilderment. Pinky smiled.

"Duh, my grandma was one of the biggest Star Trek fans, like, ever," Pinky stated the fact as if everyone should have known it.

"You know," Rachel stated. "I think I learn something new about you every day, Pinky."

"So do I, Rachel," Pinky smiled. "So do I."

* * *

Tara considered herself very fortunate that her parents had taken her to the Imperial Chinese Restaurant one year ago. She was going through a stage of trying to learn more about foreign culture, and she begged her parents to take her there. At the time, she wasn't very comfortable with driving, and her parents never wanted her to go to the city alone, so they came along for the ride. Luckily, Tara's photographic memory was working overtime that day as she let the full experience settle in. She memorized every little detail of the restaurant, which was why she was now suspending herself in a window frame next door, waiting to coordinate a finishing strike to remove the guards. She wished that she had changed into more appropriate gear for the mission. She was still wearing her purple wizard T-shirt, jeans, and sandals, which she learned was not very comfortable for espionage. She _did_ feel worse for Rachel, knowing that the foreign girl must be very uncomfortable suspended from a building wearing fur boots, a vest, and a scarf. Being suspended at such an awkward angle would have put plenty of strain on her upper back, and the extra weight of wool wouldn't help much. Tara was secretly glad that she had never devoted herself to any clothing trends, preferring not to sacrifice function for fashion. She shook the thoughts out of her head, refocusing on the mission.

After arriving, she had taken a quick survey of the area. Four guards patrolled the outside, this time staying in motion, tying to prevent an ambush. But Tara quickly discovered a flaw in their patrol schedule, and was now waiting to take advantage of it. She needed to wait three more seconds for one of the guards to walk beneath her.

Suddenly, her moment came, and she dropped from the window right on top of the guard, her weight knocking him to the ground. With haste, she unsheathed her blade, and drove it into the man's chest, penetrating through his armor and ending his life. Based on the lack of a panic, she knew that the rest of the girls must have followed with the same maneuver all around the building. With two silenced shots, two more guards died, unable to defend their weakened bodies. Tara smiled and headed to the back of the restaurant. There, the rest of her team lay in wait. The net part of the plan was simple: getting into the actual theater. If Tara's memory served a ventilation shaft should have been right above her, leading to the first floor dining area. She looked up, and saw that memory had indeed served her right once again. After getting a boost from the others, she was able to dig her sword into the vent, and tear off the gate. She crawled through the small shaft, and after a brief, yet hot journey, she reached the main dining room for floor one. She opened the vent as quietly as she could, and placed it beside her. She looked around the room.

It was quite adequately lit for being closed for six months. It was not as bright as it would have been, but the dim light made it just possible to see through the restaurant. Elegant paintings covered the walls and ceiling, and forty or so tables were placed around the dining area, once meant to seat plentiful guests. Each table was covered with fine silk tablecloths, never having been removed by the owners after the shutdown. At the back of the eating area, an elevator awaited to take people to one of the higher two floors. Five guards stood watch around the room, two standing by the front door, and three patrolling the room, their keen eyes on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. On the walls, three mounted security cameras scanned the room, constantly rotating back and forth on its stand. Tara quickly crawled back to the other side of the vent to report to her team, and she dropped down back behind the theater.

"Okay, so here's what we are dealing with," Tara explained the situation to the girls, and then fully laid out her plans for attack. The motions were quite simple to follow through. All of them would start by entering through the vent. Pinky would shoot out the security cameras, while Fiona entered and eliminated the two guards closest to her. Rachel and Tara were to sneak around to the other side and incapacitate the remaining three men. From there, they would head up the elevator shaft to the second floor, where they hoped to either find Discord or AJ waiting for them.

The motions were carried out with extreme efficiency. In fact, everything almost happened too easily. Fiona managed to slip out of the vent just as Pinky destroyed the cameras, resulting in sparks flying from the broken machines. Fiona silently moved amongst the shadows created by the tables in the dim light. By the time the first guard saw her, she was already a less than a yard away, her quickened yet silent feet moving at full speed. She delivered a quick blow to his larynx, preventing him from shouting, before flying past him and doing the same to his comrade. As she took them down silently, Tara had reached one of the patrolling guards and dug her blade deep into his ribs. Rachel quickly moved to the other man, delivering a swift kick to his head, sending him slamming into one of the tables, causing the wooden object to splinter apart. The commotion drew the attention of the final guard, but he couldn't reach his superiors in time. As he reached to trigger his earpiece, Pinky shot him in the chink in his armor, at his neck. He grasped onto his throat, trying to keep the blood inside, but it was to no avail. After a few desperate seconds for survival, he fell to the ground, dead. The girls moved to the elevator, stepping past the corpses (as Fiona tried to avoid looking at the dead bodies).

"Okay, so what do we do now," Rachel asked, looking at the elevator. Tara shrugged.

"I suppose we just take the elevator up," Tara suggested. Fiona was uneasy with this plan, however, and spoke out about her concerns.

"But, wouldn't that kind of, uh," Fiona said nervously, not wanting to show any accidental disrespect to her leader. "You know, draw attention to ourselves?"

"Well, we have to get up there somehow," Tara told her. "And I don't see any other way."

"I just don't feel like that would be the best idea to use something that would be so noisy," Fiona admitted. Tara sighed.

"Look, I admit, it may not be the smartest idea, but we really don't have another way up," Tara said honestly. Fiona face brightened up.

"Actually, I think I have a back-up," Fiona explained. "See, from where I was outside, I could see that on the third floor, someone left a small window open. We could probably get through there." Tara considered this possibility. She had not seen this window before, and had no idea it existed. It was actually not a horrible idea. It would certainly attract far less attention than otherwise using the elevator. Rachel, however, shook her head frantically.

"No way," Rachel said with determination. "No way in hell I'm going to climb up the side of a building wearing this." Rachel pointed to her outfit, including all of her fancy jewelry, belts, and designer clothes that she had spent good money on. "I already got fucking _blood_ spilled on this tonight; I'm not going to climb vertically up an old, dusty building with this on." Rachel was so distraught with the idea of her clothes being ruined, that she didn't notice that one of the guards Fiona had knocked out was starting to stir.

"Rachel, are you being _serious_?" Tara asked in disbelief. "This is a life-and-death situation involving the life of our friend, and you want to jeopardize it to save a _scarf_?"

"For your information, this scarf is worth more than this entire building!" Rachel said, acting as if she was personally offended. "And besides, _I_ am a lady of character. I will not risk my own health when an equally viable option is sitting right before us."

The guard by the front door got to his knees, and looked around, holding his foggy head in his hand.

"What the fuck happened?" he asked himself under his breath, letting out a groan.

"You're being ridiculous!" Tara proclaimed to her friend. The last thing she needed now was to argue with another one of her teammates. She was already down enough allies as it was.

"I'm not being ridiculous," Rachel said in defense. "We could kill ourselves in a climb like that. Besides, we don't even have the proper equipment for a steep incline like that. Do you know what equipment we need to ride an elevator? _None_."

The man at the door slowly got his thoughts straightened out, and he quickly realized that there were four girls standing by the elevator, and all of his squad mates were lying dead or unconscious on the ground. He panicked briefly, before he got control of his thoughts, picked up his gun, and rose to his feet.

_CRASH_

All of a sudden, a large white car drove through the front doors at top speed. It ran over the man, and drove through several tables, before coming to a complete halt. The girls were quite astonished to see the front doors practically explode and a vehicle to plow through the building, creating so much noise that any hopes of remaining stealthy were all but diminished. Tara was quite in question on who could perform such a chaotic and reckless act. However, the enigma solved itself when the car window rolled down, and a voice shouted from the driver's seat.

"Motherfucker, that was _awesome_!"

Tara witnessed one of the worst things she had seen all day, as Dash opened up the car door, and with one of the cockiest grins, started walking towards the girls with a gun in her hand. She smiled at them, acting like everything was perfectly normal.

"Uh, Dash, it's… really great to see you," Pinky said, trying to get past the uneasy feeling she had seeing Dash smiling.

"Yeah, it's good to be alive," Dash said with a smile. "By the way…" Suddenly, Dash punched Tara hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her and bringing her to her knees.

"Rebecca, what the hell?" Tara looked up at Dash, seeing that she was now letting her rage come out.

"THAT WAS FOR KNOCKING ME OUT AND DRAGGING ME BENEATH A FUCKING DESK!" Dash yelled at her. Tara slowly got to her feet, and searing pain running through her midsection. Dash turned her rage to the others. "And what the fuck I wrong with you guys?! You left me behind! I thought we were a team here!"

"We're… we're really sorry," Fiona said quickly, trying to avoid Dash's fury. Dash stuck up her middle finger at Fiona, and walked towards the elevator.

"Fuck you guys," Dash said with a sneer. "Just consider yourselves lucky I managed to track you down here." She pressed the button on the elevator, and waited for it to come down. Tara turned around, and started to yell again.

"Why do you think we _need_ you here?!" Tara asked at her, as the elevator came down. "Everything was going just fine before you showed up. Now our cover's blown!"

"Excuse me, Spark, but if I'm not mistaken, I just saved your fucking life," Dash spoke back angrily. She stepped into the elevator, and the rest of the girls followed her inside. "Why do you have to be so bitchy all the time?"

"Don't you understand what you've _done_?" Tara asked in rage, begrudgingly entering the elevator, forcing her to be cramped in a tight space with someone that she very-much hated. "AJ is being held hostage. Now that they know that we're here, they'll probably execute her! She is going to _die_."

"Then we save her," Dash said nonchalantly. "We're a group of bad-asses. Why do you have to worry so much? It's not _my_ fault that you've never cum before. Stop with the hate."

Tara was getting extremely frustrated with Dash, as the elevator was slowing down.

"I'll stop when you learn to take some _fucking_ responsibility, and actually care about the people you're fighting for!" Tara shouted. The elevator came to a halt on the second floor, as the doors slowly opened. Dash turned back to Tara.

"Jesus Christ, calm the fuck down!" Dash yelled at her, their eyes never breaking contact with each other. "Nothing bad is going to happen!"

"Ahem."

Dash and Tara stopped staring at each other, and turned towards the open elevator door. Just outside the elevator, five guards had their assault rifles trained on the girls, with Discord standing behind them. AJ was in his grasp, and he had his revolver pressed to the side of her head. He looked at them rather disappointingly, as if they had failed to live up to his great expectations. AJ had a very annoyed and confused expression, as her first sight of her friends in hours, who were supposed to rescue her, was the sight of two of them trying to rip each other's throats apart.

"Not to break up your little, well, _intervention_," Discord said, as if he were trying to finish his business and return to his work. "But, in case you haven't noticed, there's a _fucking_ car, in my _fucking_ hideout, and you _fucking_ girls are back again, _fucking_ my _fucking_ business over! How? How the _fuck_ did you find me?!"

Pinky, showing no sense of danger (and possibly not aware of it existing) answered with a shrug.

"We have a tracker on AJ's phone," Pinky said, causing her to teammates to glare at her. She was puzzled. "What? He asked."

"Another thing," Discord asked with a sigh. "How much training do you have in the first place? You killed most of my best troops. Aside from those fuckers upstairs, these five," Discord tilted his head at the five guards. "Are all I got left. How long have you assholes been working for?"

"Two weeks," Pinky said yet again, resulting in even more glares. Discord was quite stunned by the answer, and took a second to mentally process the information.

"Pinky, shut up," Rachel said annoyed. It was enough that she had guns pointed at her, but the fact that Pinky was revealing all of their secrets was adding insult to injury.

"Two weeks?" Discord asked in disbelief. "_Two_ fucking weeks? How… what… what the fuck?" Taking advantage of Discord's confusion, AJ finally got to speak out her concern to Tara.

"Tara, what were you _thinking_ with that plan?" AJ asked, very annoyed. "Crashing a car through a building aint very discreet." Tara groaned.

"Trust me, it wasn't my fault," Tara motioned at Dash, who acted offended. AJ sighed.

"I leave you girls alone for a few hours, and you're already splitting apart," AJ said, disappointed. "I'm going to have to fix this, aint I?" Tara looked at her friend, very confused. AJ was clearly not in any position to fight. Her hands were tied behind her back, and at any moment, Discord could but a bullet through her brain. And it wasn't as if the rest of them were in very tactical position, either.

Suddenly, AJ started to count down from five.

"Five, four, three, two…" AJ counted, as Discord was still trying to register the fact that five teenagers trained for fourteen days, and were able to beat his best men, who had undergone years of hard work for their impressive skills to be attained. AJ reached the number "one", and she suddenly slammed her head back into Discord's face, causing him to bring his hands to his face, and drop his gun. The soldiers suddenly turned around as AJ managed to catch the gun, her hands still tied. She quickly rolled under Discord's arm, getting behind him. Then, with a sick cracking sound, she rotated her shoulders around two hundred and seventy degrees, wrapping her arms around Discord's neck, and pressing the gun against his forehead. The guards were now all facing her as she held their boss hostage, and they were unsure of what to do next.

In this moment of confusion, Tara gave the order to take action. She led by lunging out of the elevator, and tackling one of the soldiers to the ground. The others followed, attacking the men before they had time to react. AJ grinned at her masterful distraction. She was so glad that she almost didn't realize that she holding the gun in a position where she couldn't fire. She simply gripped the chamber, her fingers unable to reach the trigger. In this moment, Discord understood that he would not be shot, and retaliated with a head-butt of his own. Now, with AJ knocked away and his gun falling to the floor, he took up a fighting stance. He grinned at AJ, who scoffed at him. She took a stance of her own, her hands staying at her waist, feet firmly planted on the floor. She looked like she was fully able to incapacitate any enemy, even with her severe handicap, and Discord quickly remembered what she had one to his men earlier in the day. He realized that fighting her head on probably wouldn't be the brightest idea, so with a brief chuckle of embarrassment, he dove towards his revolver. He leaned over to pick it up, and AJ suddenly rolled over his back, landing on his other side, and kicking him hard in the ribs. He groaned and rolled over, as AJ slid the gun far away with her foot.

Meanwhile, the others were faced in a series of fights of their own. Tara had stabbed her target immediately after tackling him, and now she was helping Pinky fight against her opponent, knowing that her hyper friend was not the most capable close-combat fighter. Tara drew away most of the attention from her friend, but it didn't stop Pinky from nearly getting cut in half several times from her opponent's machete, as she tried to deliver quick jabs from behind. Rachel was caught in a game of cat and mouse with her Hound Dog, as he swung at her constantly, each swing carrying momentum to the next. She was very thankful she had taken yoga classes growing up, as her flexibility saved her life on multiple occasions. He took a high swing, and she bent backwards at eighty degrees, seeing the machete swipe just where her head previously was located. She took a quick glance at Fiona, who was keeping her distance from the soldier.

He was standing about a yard away from her, holding his blade out, tempting her to come closer. However, she stayed away, trying to learn his body movement as rapidly as possible. She noticed certain behaviors, like the constant twitching in his left leg. He leaned slightly on his right foot, indicating a bad leg. She saw an opportunity to strike, and she dove forwards to his left side. He stepped back, startled by the rapid movement, and Fiona delivered a sharp kick to the back of his left knee. He clutched the leg, and Fiona sprung up and drove an elbow into his spine. Unfortunately, she had hit his body armor hard, and she jumped back to hold her elbow, hissing in pain.

AJ noticed that she could have taken Discord down by this point, but she was severely limited by the lack of functionality from her arms. Discord tried his best to hit her with quick jabs, but every time she would sidestep the blow, and attempt a kick. He would see her leg move, roll away, and then they would repeat the process. It was starting to aggravate AJ that she couldn't take down a completely under matched fighter under such a pathetic handicap.

Rachel was finding herself to have a similar problem, still only being able to dodge attacks rather than deal out any of her own. Mostly, it was because the Hound Dog never gave her a chance to attack, but a small part of it was due to fear. She knew that one of her weak hits wouldn't do much to someone wearing armor, but she also knew she had to strike eventually. After a few more nerve-racking dodges, and a display of flexibility that was enough to make most cheerleaders turn envious, she finally let out a strong right hook at the man's face. He sidestepped easily, and then in one fluent motion, brought up his blade and swung it against Rachel's arm. She tried to dodge, but she moved too slowly, and the edge of the machete dragged deep against her arm, tracing a path of blood from the side of her bicep, down her arm, to the back of her wrist. She screamed in pain, grabbing onto her arm as she tried to gain distance from her attacker. Blood poured out of her wound, seeping over her fingers and dripping to the floor in a steady stream. The soldier readied himself for a lunge as Rachel backed herself into a corner, too focused on the pain to think about dodging. But before the soldier was able to strike, an object was thrown at him, hitting him in the back of the head. He turned around, and saw that Dash was standing triumphantly over the corpse of a Hound Dog, a cocky grin on her face. She had thrown her fighter's machete at him to draw his attention, not because she wanted to save Rachel's life, but because she wanted to end someone else's.

"Come on, you little bitch," Dash taunted. "Come and fucking cut me up already!" The soldier left Rachel alone, and charged after Dash. Fiona, who had knocked out her opponent with a swift blow to the head, ran over to Rachel, trying her best to treat her cut. Fiona noticed that it did not appear too deep, which gave her some sense of relief. She tried to focus some of her attention towards Dash however, wanting to make sure her friend was okay. But there didn't seem to be anything to worry about. Dash was smiling away as she dodged every swing of a sword the Hound Dog had to offer, showing no effort moving out of the way. All the while, she taunted the soldier, saying whatever harsh word came to mind.

"Come on, is that the _fastest_ you can move?" Dash teased him. "I know you move faster than that whenever your mother offers to suck your cock again. Don't pretend like you don't _love_ it. Ooh, nice swing there! You almost proved your worth as part of humanity that time! Close, but no cigar, fuck face."

As this was happening, the two-on-one strategy was working wonders for Tara and Pinky. The soldier couldn't draw away from Tara without the risk of her slicing him apart, which meant that Pinky had ample time to lay in the hits. Unfortunately, most of her strikes simply bounced off of his armor, resulting in some pain in Pinky's knuckles, and a rumbling traveling through the soldier's back. Tara blocked the man's swipes with her own sword, and she did her best to parry each attack. The soldier started to swing from higher angles, trying to use leverage to bring Tara to her demise.

And suddenly, she found herself failing. Her grip started to slip from her fingers. The increasing weight started to pile on more and more. Pinky's blows were being ignored completely now, and Tara's block was breaking right before her eyes. With one devastating slash, Tara's balance failed her, and her guard was broken, leaving her open to an easy killing blow. But Pinky, in her best attempt to assist her friend, jumped onto the soldier's back, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He lowered his blade, and tried to shake the girl off of himself, but it was to no avail. Pinky's grip was tight, and her determination was fierce. The man was slowly starting to suffocate as Pinky increased her tenacity, closing off his airway. He swung around desperately, trying to shake the hyper girl away. Pinky was starting to feel the effects of his struggle, as she felt her grip loosening from his throat. Her strength was starting to fade, and the soldier was regaining his balance, preparing to go on the attack yet again. Unwilling to let that happen, Pinky summoned the rest of the strength she had to tighten her grip around the man's head and neck. Then, with one mighty twist of his arms, she snapped his neck, bringing his life to a close. Pinky fell to the ground, panting, feeling weak, as she heard a cheer coming from across the room.

"Yeah, way to go, Pinky!" Dash called out in celebration. She was still dodging the swipes from her Hound Dog enemy, not caring at all about what danger he could cause. He was no longer the main focus of attention for Dash any more. Now, she was more focused on Pinky's excellent execution, ignoring the threat standing a few feet from her. She continued to call back to her friend, as her opponent rose was trying to calm himself after Dash's long, painful string of insults. "Thank God that's three of these fuckers dead! Now, tie for you to watch how the fucking magic happens!"

Dash turned back to the man, but she never saw him, as a shadow took up most of her vision. Suddenly, the armored knee of the Hound Dog collided hard with her face. She was defenseless against the attack, and the impact struck her so forcefully that she nearly lost her balance, stumbling back a few steps. She grasped her face, and tried to muscle through the searing headache she was getting. She let go, trying to readjust her vision, but her attacker gave her no such opportunity. He punched her in the face with an armored fist, and then repeated the process twice more. She stumbled backwards, struggling to keep her balance. She realized that she vastly underestimated her opponent, and now, her face was getting caved in because of it. Dash had always considered herself to be very tough, very resilient, and able to withstand any form of punishment. It wasn't as if she had never experienced pain. But as one spends their entire life associated with pain, they grow numb to it, and are able to overcome it in whatever form it takes. Which was why she knew that those armored hits hurt an incredible amount.

She was punched once more, and now, she couldn't stay on her feet any longer. Her vision was doubling, her head was hazy, and the world was tilting. She fell to her hands and knees, as a shadow of a man raising his blade appeared before her. Her instincts told her to run. Her instincts told her to dodge. Her instincts told her that if she didn't move right now, she was going to die. She was going to be sliced into pieces unless she got her senses together. But she couldn't do it. Her feet wouldn't respond to her commands, and she just couldn't focus on the danger that was about to end her life. She didn't comprehend the fact that in a few short moments, her existence would come to an end, in the bloodiest manner possible. The shadow moved, swinging something down upon her.

She didn't understand the feeling of dread she was getting at the sight of it. It wasn't as if she felt any pain. In fact, she felt nothing other than the painful sensation in her head. She started to regain a sense of her surroundings, and she heard the sound of metal scraping against metal. Then, she heard a female voice talking to her angrily.

"Dash, focus! Get up! I can't keep saving you forever, you know!"

Dash's senses snapped back to life. She saw Tara standing next to her, her sword locked with the machete, hanging just inches above her. Tara was struggling to keep the enemy's blade up. And suddenly, Dash remembered that she was about to die. She rolled out of the way, as Tara couldn't hold up the machete any longer. She ended the clash, as the machete struck where Dash was moments ago. Dash got to her feet, and said the first thing on her mind whenever she saw Tara.

"Didn't need your help there, Spark," Dash said with a sneer.

"Just focus and help me kill this guy," Tara said with a grunt. "After this, you need to learn a lesson in respecting others." The girls started to fight, although this could not interrupt their clash of words.

"And you didn't have to be an attention whore," Dash said, dodging a swing from the machete.

Meanwhile, AJ and Discord were still battling, and Discord understood that the only thing saving his life was the fact that AJ was still in handcuffs. She attempted an overhead swing, but Discord dove out of the way. They were still dueling by the elevator, now alone on their side of the room, all other's currently busy. Discord quickly studied the situation. Once his last soldier fell, he would stand no chance of survival. The remaining Hound Dogs were upstairs, and he knew that they were never supposed to leave their posts there, as the money they protected was far more valuable to them than his life right now, no matter how much he personally disagreed with it. He knew his only chance of survival was to get on the elevator and make it upstairs. But how? He then saw his saving grace as he was backing away from AJ's advance. A few yards from him, his revolver lay in wait. He knew he had to get to it, and fast. But first, Discord had to slip away from AJ.

He quickly reached into his pocket, and pulled out a long knife. He readied himself, planting both feet firmly on the ground, and bending his legs, making him a hard target to knock over. AJ charged at him at full speed, and he smirked, seeing his chance to escape come to life before his eyes. He waited until AJ got as close as possible, and then, he lashed out with the knife, swooping it upwards through the air. He glared at the knife in victory, knocking he had cut through something. He looked back at AJ, and his smile faded. AJ's ties had been sliced by the knife, and now, she was free and unrestrained.

AJ smirked.

Discord gulped.

Then, he ran.

He sprinted towards the gun as fast as he could, with AJ now close behind him. He dove onto his weapon, rolling as he hit the ground, so that he would spring back up. He jumped back up, his faithful revolver in his left hand. He turned quickly towards AJ, but could not react fast enough as she plowed into him. He held onto his gun this time, and tried to shoot once moreagain. But AJ now grabbed onto his wrists, and they started to have a tug-of-war over the colt revolver.

Tara was busy fighting when she heard the sound of a gunshot ringing through the air. She looked over towards AJ, hoping not to see her friend dead. Luckily, she was still quite alive, continuing to wrestle with Discord over the gun, which had misfired into the ceiling. Tara suddenly understood her priorities, and knew that if Discord got that gun, major problems would occur. The soldier was facing Dash now, trying to cut her open, and she was now fully focused on avoiding his attacks. Fiona was busy helping Rachel, and Pinky had dropped her own guns when she tackled one of the soldiers. Tara then realized that she was the only chance of assisting her friend.

With a quick glance back at AJ, she suddenly struck the soldier over the back of the head, briefly knocking him unconscious. Before Dash had time to react, Tara was already sprinting towards AJ and Discord, her sword at her side, ready to strike.

"AJ, I'm coming!" Tara yelled to her friend to alert her of the reinforcements. However, it was not AJ who was helped by this notification. Discord suddenly realized that another opportunity had presented itself, and this time, he would not let it get away. He raised his foot, and slammed it hard upon AJ's. She winced in pain, and then in the moment of her reaction, he head-butted her again, temporarily knocking her away.

With his hands now free, he quickly spun around towards Tara, smiling as he pointed the gun at the young girl.

_BANG_

Tara froze. She dint know why, but she felt like she couldn't move anymore. A strange sense of euphoria washed over her. She was shaking slightly as she held her pose, still positioned in mid-sprint. Tara's breathing was very jagged, and she felt her vision starting to fade. She saw AJ staring at her in shock, but Tara didn't know why. She felt as if something had passed through her, like a ghost phasing threw her torso. She didn't feel any pain, so she didn't understand why there was any need to panic.

And then, she had the desperate need to look down at her body. She didn't know why, but it just felt like she _had_ to do it. Tara tilted her head, and saw that a large red stain was forming just between her last few ribs on her right side. It took her a brief moment to realize that what she was seeing wasn't any design on her shirt, but instead her own blood pouring out of her. Tara looked back at AJ, an expression of confusion on her face.

Then, she dropped her sword, and collapsed to the ground, her body going limp.

All AJ could do was stare in disbelief at Tara's form, lying on the ground merely a few yards away. It was in this moment Discord made a mad dash towards the elevator. He leapt inside, and pounded on the third floor button as many times as he could. Finally, the elevator doors closed, and he was carried up to the third floor. It was dead silent around the room. For a few seconds, no one could do anything but stare at Tara.

Then, AJ quickly ran towards Tara as fast as she could. She didn't care about fighting Discord anymore, her only thoughts focusing on her friend's well-being. She slid over to Tara and knelt beside her, slowly rotating Tara onto her back. Tara screamed at the sharp movement, feeling like someone was snapping her in half. Pinky ran over also, and even Rachel, who had been so focused on her own injury, now felt nothing aside from worry, sprinting over to Tara as well. Fiona slowly rose to her feet, and started to walk fearfully over, not wanting to know the full extent of the damage. Tara's scream shook her to the core. It only gave her a sense of dread, like something terrible had gone wrong. She had been so focused on helping Rachel that she didn't even have time to support her closest friend when she most desperately needed her. Already, tears were starting to form in Fiona's eyes, as she caught a glimpse of AJ's terrified face. It gave Fiona no sense of security, and her fears only increased once she finally got close to Tara.

"Rachel, scarf! Now!" AJ commanded Rachel, who covered her mouth with her hand, noticing the large amount of blood Tara was losing. A pool was forming beneath her friend, which was soaking through Tara's clothing. Rachel didn't even register AJ's orders, too shocked to move. AJ yelled at her again, and this time Rachel understood, taking off her scarf and handing it to the southern girl. AJ wrapped the scarf around Tara's torso, in a fast attempt to slow the bleeding. Pinky, realizing something was wrong despite her ever optimistic mood, tried to get AJ to explain what was happening. Fiona had now joined the others, crowded around Tara, who was breathing very raggedly. AJ refused to answer Pinky, too focused on Tara's wounds to think of anything else. She knew from training that she couldn't lose herself when other soldiers died, but she was finding it increasingly difficult. She didn't want to sit down and cry, but she felt like she was losing something far too important to let go of.

Tara felt intense agony. Every breath felt like her chest was on fire. Every slightest move of her body felt like someone was twisting her bones around in circles. It hurt her tremendously to breathe, but she couldn't stop breathing heavier and heavier, which only made the sensation worse. Her ears were ringing, and her surroundings kept fading in and out. The pain was slowly turning into a dull numbness, as her nerves started to lose all feeling other than agony. She thought she was going to die. She always heard that people went numb when they die; she wondered if this feeling was what they were actually referring to. In fact, for a brief moment, she thought that she wouldn't even _care_ if she died.

She looked up, and saw the faces of her friends staring back at her. Pinky looked incredibly confused, with only a hint of understanding the grave reality of what was happening. Rachel looked like she was going to be ill. Fiona had turned away from Tara, the simple sight of her friend bringing her to sobs. AJ was still working hard to save Tara's life, but Tara saw that her resolve was fading. Tara felt like she should be saying her final goodbyes or something, but she was too weak to say anything.

_N_o, Tara thought, trying to force herself to keep her hopes high. _I am not going to die like this. Not yet. There's too much left that I'd leave behind._

Then, Tara noticed that there was one person left in the room not crowded by her. Dash was a few feet away, by the unconscious soldier. Dash was now leaning against the nearby wall. Her eyes were wide, and she stared blankly at the floor. Other than that, she had no expression on her face. There were no tears streaming down her cheeks, no desperate plea to God that Tara would live. All she did was just stare at the floor, arms by her side, as she heard her friends struggle to save Tara's life. She didn't bother looking at Tara to know the extent of the damage. She didn't have to. Tara's screams and Fiona's cries were all it took to understand that Tara probably was not going to survive the night. It seemed a little funny to Dash, actually. The thought that Tara would be killed by a crazed gunman, of all people, was rather humorous. The great, noble Tara Sullivan brought down by a lowlife psychopath was nothing other than pure ironic comedy.

Actually, now that Dash thought about it, it wasn't funny anymore. Suddenly, it became something else. Instead of making her laugh, it filled her with a different emotion, one that Dash was quite familiar with. She had felt it every single day of her life, through all of her most miserable hours and desolate moments. She felt it every time she had seen how wonderful everyone else lived, every time she witnessed how poorly everyone acted to her, every time she had been forced to fight against the stupidity of the world. She looked down at the unconscious man at her feet, starting to awaken. And the simple sight of him moving and breathing, getting up just to kill more people, pushed Dash's emotions to their brink. She clenched her teeth, and her hands closed tightly into fists, her nails digging deep into her skin. Her face was like death, as she spoke to no one, yet everyone.

"They're going to die," Dash said harshly, her voice rough. Blood started to leak from her hands as her nails dug deeper into her own flesh. She looked up from the ground, and AJ turned her attention to her, seeing Dash full of more rage than she had ever witnessed. Dash raised her foot in the air; now turning her attention to the other unconscious man Fiona had been fighting.

"EVERY LAST ONE OF THESE MOTHERFUCKERS IS GOING TO DIE!"

She slammed her foot down as hard as she could onto the soldier's head, breaking through his armor and skull. Her foot traveled through his brain, and pressed hard onto the other side of his bone. She pushed off from her blood and brain soaked foot, and sprinted as fast as she could towards the other living man in the room. Right before she reached him, she jumped in the air. She brought her full weight down upon his spine, shattering it instantly. She forced his body to turn over, and then she started punching him in the face, beating him through his armor. Her hands were bruising against the face mask, but she didn't care. She kept beating on him, knowing that she was causing him pain. Or at least, she hoped he was in pain. She felt him stir beneath her, and she wanted him to feel all of the pain Tara was feeling at this moment, if not _more_. It was the only thing that mattered to her, except for the one last piece of business she needed to address. She turned to the other girls, who were now noticing her outburst of hatred. With a bloody fist, she pointed at the elevator.

"WHAT THE _FUCK_ ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!" Dash shouted in anger. "GET UP THERE AND _KILL_ THAT ASSHOLE ALREADY!"

The force of Dash's command knocked the girls out of their stupor. Without saying another word, they each understood that if Discord escaped, only more destruction would follow in his wake. Still, that didn't stop AJ from wanting to stay at Tara's side, help her through the pain. She knew that the girl also couldn't just leave Tara alone, bleeding to death in an abandoned restaurant. But Fiona kneeled down beside her, understanding AJ's worries.

"AJ," Fiona said through her tears, which she was trying hard to sniffle away. "I'll stay here and look after her." AJ nodded. She understood that Tara meant a lot to Fiona. She didn't know the exact details, but she imagined that Fiona would take Tara's death worse than any of them. Tara was one of Fiona's only friends, and Fiona would do all she could at keeping her friend safe. AJ looked back at Tara, silently wishing for her friend to be okay, and then she stood up, wiping away all emotion to focus on her job.

"Alright then, listen up," AJ instructed the girls. "We can't use the elevator. They'd be guardin' it like hell. So, I need you to grab assault rifles from the corpses over here, and follow me through the kitchen. It's time we end this bastard once and for all." AJ turned towards Dash, who was still pounding away into the lifeless shell of a soldier, her hands bloodied and bruised. "Dash, ya coming?"

"Go on," Dash grunted. "I... need to _finish_ something here."

* * *

The third floor of the restaurant was mainly used to house novelty items before the shutdown. It was designed for its ambiance; so many fantastic stain glass portraits lined the walls of the room, depicting Chinese artistry, including great dragons, fighting soldiers, and beautiful women. At a time, the room used to hold mostly shelves, but these were taken out to make accommodations for Discord's wealth. Millions of dollars were stacked in great piles across the room, signaling the Smiling Dragon's great accomplishments. Discord had instructed his five best soldiers stay in this room to protect the money with their lives, even at the cost of his own life. He figured that it was better to have a large sum of money be saved to be used later, rather than sacrifice a leader who could always be replaced by someone else.

However, Discord seemed to be forgetting this particular memory now, as he was holding one soldier down and slapping him repeatedly across his unprotected face.

"Why. Didn't. You. Help. Me?!" Discord punctuated each word with a vicious slap. He didn't give the soldier time to answer before he threw the man to the ground. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking _fuck_, guys! Follow this order, will ya?! See that elevator?" Discord pointed at the large gray doors. "If that opens, light it up! I don't give a fuck who's inside! Just waste 'em! I need to get out of here, so if you excuse me…"

Discord started to walk away from the elevator, which was now being targeted by the soldiers. He had an escape route through the back room, which led down through the kitchen and out a hidden back entrance. Suddenly, a whirring sound was heard, and the light on top of the elevator lit up, indicating a new arrival.

_Ding_

The elevator doors barely opened before the soldiers opened fired into the small space. After a few seconds of firing, their clips were empty, and they paused to see who they executed. But the elevator was empty, not a soul in sight. Discord paused in his back stepping, to take a long gaze into the elevator. Suddenly, he heard the sound of a rifle clicking behind him, and his reflexes took over, as he dived behind on of the many stacks of money.

_BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG_

From the far side of the room, near the door to a back room, AJ, Rachel, and Pinky opened fire upon the group of soldiers. Some members panicked, trying to dive for safety, while some died instantly from the shots. But after merely six seconds, the five best soldiers in Discord's elite troop had been murdered. Discord saw their bodies lying on the ground, and it angered him. It angered him so much that a group of completely inexperienced teenagers had somehow managed to kill his business, his acquaintances, and now, were about to kill him. It brought him to sheer rage. He waited for the girls to reload, before he pulled out his revolver, and stood up, walking out into the open. He started twirling his gun at a vigorous pace around his finger, and started to randomly pause and fire shots at the girls. AJ instructed them to get into cover. They did so, and Discord started to speak his anger more openly.

"YOU FUCKING SEE THIS?!" Discord shouted in hate. "DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE! YOU RUINED EVERYTHING! IT WAS ALL GOING PERFECTLY UNTIL YOU LITTLE BITCHES HAD TO SHOW UP AND FUCK ME OVER!"

Pinky reloaded and tried to get out of cover to take a shot, but she couldn't even peek her head out of cover, before Discord shot at her head with near perfect accuracy. Luckily, she managed to duck down before it hit her, saving her life.

"Well, I want you to see something!" Discord shouted, realizing his clip was empty. He reached into his pocket with his spare hand, and pulled out a set of six bullets. He twirled his revolver again, flipping open the chamber, and expertly reloaded his gun while performing fantastic tricks with his revolver. He flipped it in the air, and rolled it sideways, and despite the fact that he had nearly killed her, Pinky thought the tricks were actually pretty nifty, and made a mental note to practice it later, if she managed to survive. "This is the .45 Colt Revolver. This is the greatest fucking handgun in the world, far superior to the shit weapons you use, so I _know_ I'm better than you are! And now, I'm going to _kill_ you with it!"

Discord fired more shots at the girls, not being able to penetrate past the thick stacks of fiat money protecting them. Pinky pulled out a small handgun that she had picked up off of the floor, and tried to get a good glimpse of Discord's position. She went back into cover, and took a deep breath, knowing that her trajectory would have to be perfect in order to get her shot off. She aimed at the ceiling above her, which was covered in metal beams and support columns. With one shot, she fired at one of the beams. With fantastic precision, the bullet ricocheted off of the beam, bounced off of the floor, and then struck Discord in the hand.

He yelped in pain and the revolver fell out of his hand, which Pinky had planned to give her an extra second to get in a killing blow. But Discord had managed to catch the revolver in his right hand, and started firing without a moment's hesitation, once again. Pinky, now stuck again, realized her plan was a failure, at least in the sense that she had intended. But yet, AJ happened to notice that Pinky's plan had some sort of advantage. Discord was firing much more wildly, his right hand clearly not being his predominate one. Discord still had them pinned against cover, but she thought that at least they had a fighting chance.

_Fuck_, was all Discord could think. He was now sufficiently outmatched, and it angered him even more. He had the enemy right where he wanted them, but he couldn't even finish them off. He fired anyway, hoping to take someone down. But in his rage and intensive firing, he couldn't hear the rapid footsteps approaching him from behind.

"THIS IS FOR TARA, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

_Shlkk_

Discord didn't even have time to turn around, before a sword passed straight through his arm. Cut off at his shoulder, his right arm fell to the ground, still clutching the revolver in its unmoving fingers. Discord stared in shock at his bloody stump of an arm, as Dash ferociously turned him around and head-butted him, knocking him out. Dash's face was contorted in rage, and she raised Tara's sword in the air, preparing a finishing blow. But AJ quickly ran over to the enraged girl, and grabbed onto her wrists.

"Dash, wait," AJ reasoned. "We need to keep him alive."

"Why?!" Dash snapped at her friend. "You saw what he's done! He's a _psychopath_! Tell me why _he_ gets to live, while _she_ doesn't?!"

"Because right now, he's the only link we have to The Unknown," AJ stated factually. "And he's far more valuable alive than he is dead."

Dash considered this, and then begrudgingly lowered her sword. She spat on Discord's face, as she walked away, disgusted by the sight of him.

By the time Discord finally woke, he found himself in a bad predicament. He was kneeling on the floor, his one remaining hand tied to the table. He thought he was going to bleed out, but one look around told him that it did not seem likely. He was being closely watched by all four girls, who, despite desperately wanting to make sure Tara was okay, were staring at him with great caution, making sure nothing happened to him, even somehow bandaging his bloody stump of an arm.

"What the fuck happened?" Discord asked groggily.

"You're our prisoner," AJ responded. "We're waiting for a control unit to pick you up, and deliver you to a safe location. You're too dangerous to be left on your own."

Discord chuckled at the very thought of being contained.

"That won't do any good," Discord smirked. "No matter what torture you put me through, you'll never get me to talk."

"You mean talk about the council that constantly treats you like a child?" AJ said back, making Discord's smile fade.

"Oh shit," Discord said under his breath. "Man, if The Unknown finds out about this…"

"Trust me, The Unknown isn't what you should be worrying about right now," Dash said, her words full of hate. The elevator light suddenly lit up, indicating someone was heading to this floor.

_That's weird,_ AJ thought. _The control unit can't have gotten here that fast._

"Besides, what's so threatening about The Unknown, anyhow?" Dash asked.

"Look, I'm a crazy fucking maniac," Discord said bluntly. "But that guy, I don't _know_ what his deal is. No one does! He's got some crazy fucking agenda of his going on, but I don't know what he's thinking in that nutty little head of his."

"We'll see how honest ya being once we get you to a secure location," AJ said smugly, despite curiously wondering how the control unit could have arrived so quickly.

_Ding_

"That's them,' Rachel said, walking towards the elevator. The door opened, and she greeted the group happily. "Thank God, you're here. We've been-"

Rachel paused. She stared at the single person in the elevator. He was wearing all dark clothing, a set of black jeans, a black button-up shirt, and a black blazer. His dark shoes were fancy, and looked expensive. His suit-hat was dipped down on his head, and he had his hands clasped behind his back, as if he were an extremely important executive, looking down upon his subordinates. But what was truly scary was his lack of face. A white mask had been placed over his head, covering his entire face, neck, and hair with a white polyester. He had no means of identification, and Rachel just stared at him, a feeling of dread running through her.

Time seemed to stop.

Suddenly, he lashed out, striking her in the head with an elbow, and knocking her to the floor. He sprinted out of the elevator, and moved towards Discord with fantastic speed. Pinky stood in his way, and she raised her gun to fire. But he moved too fast, grabbing onto her gun and giving it a harsh tug in two places. The barrel slid off the grip, and Pinky's gun became worthless. The man grabbed onto Pinky's shoulder with one hand and her waist with another, and flipped her to the ground, all while never losing any momentum. Dash tried to attack, but he rolled towards her, ducking her punch before delivering a strong kick to the back of her left knee. She stumbled, and in this time, the man grabbed onto her face and forced her down like the others.

All that was left standing was AJ, but she was ready for anything this man had to offer. She readied a fighting stance, and when the right moment came, she lashed out a quick jab, intended on making the man roll out of the way. Except he didn't roll; he simply paused right out of the range of AJ's fingers, and grabbed onto her wrist. He stared at her for a moment.

An eerily calm moment, where neither of them moved.

And then, he stepped in closer, placed his hands on her shoulder and stomach, and pushed her to the side. With the four girls briefly incapacitated, he looked down upon the kneeling Discord. The man broke the bonds, before grabbing Discord by the collar of his shirt, and holding their faces close together.

"We're leaving," the man spoke harshly at Discord. Discord gulped in fear. The man threw Discord over his shoulder, and quickly moved to the largest stain-glass window. The girls struggled to get to their feet as the man paused, and slowly turned around.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Dash yelled at him. The man tipped his hat at the girls, a signal of a decent fight being fought.

"You know who I am," the man said without doubt. "Oh, and by the way, I want you to stop interfering. _Now_. Before I have to end any of you sooner than you deserve. And remember, fear The Unknown…"

The man placed himself against the window.

"…for I don't fear you."

_CRASH_

With that, the man jumped through the stain glass window, carrying him and a screaming Discord down three stories to the hard concrete below. AJ quickly rushed over to the window, and looked down. She knew the results of a three story fall, and she had no idea why this man would ever end his own life in this fashion. But, when she looked down, there were no bodies outside except the soldiers that Tara had earlier killed. She looked around for any sign of the two men, but there was none. They had simply vanished into the night.

* * *

**October 21th-October 22nd, 2015**

Tara slowly opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry; an endless haze made up her sight. All she saw was bright, blurry white, surrounding her in every direction. She tried to groggily look around, but she couldn't make out anything. Slowly, everything started to come back to her. Her hearing kicked in, and she heard a steady beeping noise. She began to make out walls, and a ceiling. A hospital. That was where she must have been. But she didn't understand why she was there. Suddenly, some of the memories came back to her. She remembered fighting Discord, then a gunshot, and then nothing else. With the memories, though, the pain suddenly kicked in as well. She groaned as an intense feeling of discomfort in her chest, and a horrible soreness in the rest of her body came to life. She tried turning her head, but the pain convinced her not to move.

"So you're finally awake," a voice came from beside her. Tara didn't need to see who spoke in order to recognize the southern accent of her friend.

"AJ?" Tara asked sleepily. "What happened?"

"Ya nearly died, that's what happened," AJ said, with great relief in her voice. "Ya got shot during the attack on the Imperial Chinese Restaurant. Bullet passed right through ya liver. It's a goddamn miracle that ya survived."

"Really?" Tara asked in disbelief. "How bad could it have been?"

"Bad enough that they performed surgery for twelve hours straight tryin' to repair ya," AJ said. "Ya really should have seen the girls during it all. I thought Fiona was going to go crazy waiting for ya. You must really mean a lot to that girl."

"You have no idea," Tara sighed. "So where are they now, anyway? It'd be nice to see them."

"Sent 'em back to Camelot," AJ stated. "Couldn't take 'em anymore. Too much worrying." Tara tried to sit up to talk to her friend, but more pain flowed through her, and AJ pushed her back down on the bed. "Whoa there. You've been out for three days. I don't think that any more sudden movements are a good idea."

Tara nodded in understanding.

"So when do I get to leave?" Tara wanted to know. It didn't make her feel comfortable that she was unconscious for three days straight, but it did explain her great weariness. Although she couldn't see it, AJ smiled at her.

"Well, I got Wilson to pull a few strings, so…" AJ said happily. "If you take it easy, we can get ya back to Camelot by tomorrow." Tara yawned and smiled, leaning deeper into her bed.

"That's nice," Tara said, very tired, closing her eyes. "I think I'll sleep for a bit now. Oh, and AJ, thanks for helping me out."

"I told you, Tara," AJ said. "Nothing bad would happen to you… except a shot in one of your vital organs." Tara giggled at the comment, before drifting back to sleep.

One day later, she was happy to find that she was allowed to leave the hospital. She and AJ left together, and despite a burning in Tara's chest every time she took a step, she felt really good. During the drive back to Camelot, AJ told Tara what happened after she was wounded. Discord's ramblings, Dash's retaliation, and The Unknown's arrival all attracted her attention. Tara patiently listened to the information, taking in the details. Before she knew it, they had arrived back at Camelot, and Tara slowly got out of the car to prevent more pain flowing through her. She walked into the Chinese restaurant, entered through the secret back door, and was immediately greeted with a tight hug from Fiona.

"Tara!" Fiona shouted happily, keeping her arms wrapped tightly around her friend. Tara laughed at Fiona's enthusiasm.

"Good to see you too, Fiona," Tara returned the hug. They hugged, and hugged some more, and soon, Tara realized that Fiona may have been hugging a little too much. "Uh…Fiona?"

Fiona immediately broke off the hug and backed away, blushing furiously and hiding her face underneath her hoodie. As Tara walked further into Camelot, she was also greeted by Pinky and Rachel, who each gave their own tight, if not somewhat uncomfortable, hugs to Tara. They each wanted to know how she was feeling, if she was alright, and so forth. Tara answered the best she could to all of the questions, although for most, she herself did not know the answers. Eventually, Tara realized the lack of one member of the group, and started to inquire information for herself.

"Hey, does anyone know where Dash is?" Tara asked to her friends.

"Oh, she's training," Rachel responded with a shrug. "I don't know why she didn't bother to welcome you back, though."

"Okay, thanks," Tara said, starting to walk towards the gymnasium. "I'm going to go speak to her." Fiona expressed concern, however.

"Do you need us to help you out?" Fiona nervously questioned. "You know, in case you two start fighting again?"

Tara shook her head.

"Nah, I think I got this," Tara stated with great confidence. She left the group, and made her way to the training area. When she arrived, she took notice of how empty it was, with the exception of one person in the far corner. Dash was working a sandbag with MMA gloves, moving around and punching it as hard as she could, yet never breaking a sweat. Tara moved slowly towards her, taking slow steps, to avoid hurting herself. She did reach Dash eventually, and although Dash never looked at Tara, she did acknowledge her.

"So, they finally let you out of the hospital," Dash said while letting out another punch. "Too fucking bad. I was really hoping that you're ruptured spleen, or _whatever_, would fucking make you bleed to death. Guess I got to wish _harder_ next time."

"Hello, Dash," Tara smiled. She wasn't angered by the girl's comments, merely smiling her way through them.

"Jeez, you seem pretty fucking happy for someone who should be a corpse," Dash snickered. "What, did the doctor stroke you're fucking clit or something?"

"You know Dash, I don't think you're really this mean to people," Tara smirked. "I mean, how much of what you say do you actually mean?"

"Every last sentence," Dash stated, landing three more punches on the bag in time with her words.

"Really?" Tara asked, clearly not believing Dash's words. "Because I'm pretty sure AJ talked in great detail about, you know, how you went crazy when I got shot. How you attacked people like nuts because you couldn't handle the idea of me dying. _And_, something about, you know, cutting Discord's arm of in _my_ honor."

Dash's fist landed against the bag, but she did not move further. Her eyes were wide, and she just stared at the sandbag before her. She sneered, and muttered to herself.

"Damn it, I told that cowgirl not to say anything about that," Dash said under her breath. She continued to stare at the bag, unsure of what to actually say. But Tara took hold of the moment, and suddenly grabbed onto Dash and gave her what she had never expected to give.

A hug.

A simple hug which took Dash by great surprise. Dash stared over Tara's shoulder as Tara continued the display of affection.

"You really _do_ care, don't you, Dash?" Tara asked kindly. Dash had no idea how to respond. But finally, Dash sighed, and returned Tara's hug, even allowing herself to smile a little.

"Okay, okay," Dash said begrudgingly. "I'm glad you're not _dead_, Spark. That's the most you'll get out of me, so be fucking happy with it." Tara sighed as well, and broke off the hug.

"I'll take it," Tara said happily. "Good to see you too, Dash." Dash smirked, and went back to training.

"Yeah, yeah, go fuck yourself," Dash responded. Tara smiled at the comment, and left Dash to train.

* * *

"You failed us again," The Unknown stated with much disappointment. Discord groaned.

"Look, I got _one_ fucking arm, cut me some slack," Discord said angrily.

"No," Sombra said with disdain. "We gave you a second chance, and you disappointed us yet again. It is over."

"What do you mean 'it is over'?" Discord asked. "You saved me from being _captured_ by those fucking ladies. Doesn't that mean you want me to be a part of this council, or not?"

"The only reason I saved you was to make sure you didn't say anything _else_ about us with that horrible intellect of yours," The Unknown angrily stated. "We don't _want_ you, and we don't _need_ you."

"But… whose gonna take out those bitches if I'm gone?" Discord tried to argue.

"Have you forgotten about me?" Moon suddenly asked. "I'm an _assassin_. I can eliminate the targets before this moron can _spell_ 'assassination'."

"That's not fair!" Discord shouted. "I lost my entire business from working with you guys! You _owe_ me!"

"Be lucky that we haven't killed you on the spot," Chrysalis said. "We've seen enough of you. Now, if you will, please get the fuck out."

"You…" Discord was furious. It was enough that he lost all of his resources, but to be rejected with the only people he wanted to be accepted by was too much for him. He growled at them, spitting out his words with venom. "You'll fucking see what I can do! I'll show you how great I can be. I'll end those little P.O.N.Y. motherfuckers, and then you'll beg for me to come back!"

"I very much doubt that," The Unknown stated with confidence. "Sombra, do the honors."

"With pleasure," Sombra said, standing up from his chair to approach Discord. Discord gulped as the large man walked up to him, cracking his knuckles with satisfaction.

The next thing Discord knew, he was lying face down in the pavement in the middle of the woods, with no idea of how to leave.

* * *

Gukovo, Russia was home to one of the most infamous pubs in Russia, The Kings Pub. In the winter time, the interior was always kept warm by the hundred or so people crowded around, drinking and having a merry time. But alas, it was this time of year that the bar underwent many reservations, as it was the time that the Korbalov brothers came to drink, and take time off from their busy work. Of course, taking time off usually meant fighting as many people as possible, while breaking every stool and table in the area.

And thus, tonight another victim crashed through a table, as Yuri Korbalov, younger brother of Kristov, smirked at his triumph. Another man ran up to him, and smashed a stool over his back. But Yuri never even flinched, simply looking at the man with disappointment that such a move was even attempted. He readied a punch, but suddenly, his phone rang. He and the man both stared at his pocket, and then Yuri sighed. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and answered.

"Yes," Yuri said. "This is the Brothers of Chaos. What is request?"

"Uh, hello," the voice on the phone said. "I heard you and your brother are the best hitmen in the world."

"This is true," Yuri said.

"Well, I need a favor. See, I need help killing six little teenage girls in America."

"You can't kill a bunch of little girls?"

"They cut my fucking arm off!" the voice angrily shouted. "Can you do it or not?!"

"Yes, we can do it," Yuri smirked. "But it will cost money. Lots of money."

"I got millions of dollars," the voice said. "You can do whatever you want to do. Torture, rape, whatever."

"Got it," Yuri said. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," the voice said. "Tell them, 'By the command of Discord, go fuck yourself.' Got it, commie?"

"Yeah, Yeah, we understand," Yuri said happily. "Pleasure doing business."

The man Yuri was fighting tried to strike Yuri while he was distracted, but suddenly, a large, crimson fist penetrated through his chest, killing him. He fell to the ground, and Yuri saw his brother standing behind the body. Yuri smiled.

"Kristov, we've been hired."

Kristov nodded in understanding.

"Where?" Kristov asked as the two left the pub, much to the relief of many drinkers.

"America," Yuri stated. "We've got a job to do."

**End of Chapter 4**


	8. Chapter 5: The Living Nightmare

******Note: If anything in the following story is worth noting, positive or negative, good or bad, leave a comment about via review. If every person who read this sentence left a review, the impact would be incredible. We at GodSaveTheKings greatly appreciate feedback, as it substantially helps with the writing process. So please, make your voice heard.**

* * *

**Chapter 5: The Living Nightmare**

**Part 1 of 2: Political Justice**

**November 1****st****, 2015**

"Are you gonna keep jerking off, or are you going to fucking _hit_ me already?" Dash taunted her opponent. Tara was breathing heavily, trying to keep focus through the horrible pain in her abdomen. Dash was staying light on her toes, never keeping her feet in one place as she bounced around the struggling girl. The girls were in the Camelot training chamber, sparring, as Fiona and AJ watched from afar. Dash stopped moving, and leaned forwards, hands clasped behind her back. She smiled brightly.

"Okay, I know this might be hard for you Spark, but I am going to stand completely still, and let you hit me in the face. You _can_ land a hit, right? I mean, if hitting a nonmoving target at really fucking close range is too challenging…"

Tara let out a jab, trying to strike Dash square in the jaw. She didn't feel comfortable hitting her friends, but the taunting was starting to get a little excessive. Luckily, for Tara's moral standings, Dash suddenly moved out of the way, grabbing on to Tara's outstretched limb, and, using the girl's momentum, swung Tara to the ground. Tara groaned, clutching her side, and slowly rose to her feet.

Meanwhile, Fiona looked over at AJ. Fiona did not feel entirely comfortable watching the painful training, and she imagined that AJ would feel quite the same. But Fiona saw AJ watching intently, showing no remorse as Dash practically skipped around the wounded girl.

"Um, AJ," Fiona questioned. "Are you sure that-"

"Fiona," AJ said sternly, never taking her eyes off of the fighters. "If you ask me one more time about whether letting Dash take over Tara's physical therapy is a good idea, I swear to God I will lose my damn mind."

"Well," Fiona said shyly. "It's just that… I used to sometimes take care of wounded animals in my childhood. And they required a lot of tenderness to heal. And, well, Dash is sort of…"

"Jesus, Spark, you got to move faster than that!" Dash yelled as she bounced about "You suck so hard, I bet dicks are getting pulled at your face like a fucking vacuum cleaner!"

"Um… you know," Fiona said finishing her thoughts. AJ understood Fiona's concern, but she didn't budge, and continued to stare at the training ladies.

"Look, Dash may be crazy mean sometimes, but she is more fit than all of us," AJ explained. "I've been doing this for over a decade, but I have _no_ idea what kind of crazy shit she does to get healthy. Whatever it is, we are on the hunt for a terrorist, and if pushing Tara like this is what Dash thinks will help most, then I'll let her do it."

Fiona sighed and continued watching the girls spar. Every time that Tara attempted to throw a punch, Dash would easily bound out of the way, and then insult Tara more. Tara knew that Dash didn't mean most of the things that she said, but they did drive her to do better, even if just to silence the annoying girl.

"Come on, Spark, where's your drive?" Dash asked. "I mean, think about it. You're trying to hit _me._ Think of all of the stuff I hate that you love. Society, the government, science, wizard shit. Fight harder, you wounded bitch." Tara was panting as she desperately tried to keep up with Dash. Her chest was killing her, and she felt like she was going to die.

"How (pant) are you (pant) not tired?" Tara asked, sinking to her knees and accepting defeat. Dash stopped bouncing on her toes, and came to a stop. Despite jumping around for at least ninety minutes, she had yet to break a sweat. Dash flashed a cocky grin, as she kneeled down beside Tara.

"Sorry, but my workout regimen is strictly confidential," Dash said. "Don't worry; I'm sure if this is too much, then you can just learn from Pinky. I mean, I hear crack _really_ slims you down."

As if on cue, the door opened, and Pinky entered the room, her cheery disposition unwavering. Rachel walked behind her, although in stark contrast, her mood was anything but pleasant. Dash looked over and saw Rachel's disgruntled mood, and noticed her outfit might have caused it. Never in her life had Dash seen Rachel wear anything other than needlessly expensive and extravagant clothing, but today, she was wearing nothing but tan pants and a long sweater.

"Why do you look so bitchy?" Dash asked. Rachel groaned.

"I've been searching for _days_, but there is nothing!" Rachel exclaimed, clearly very frustrated. She pulled up the sleeve on her right arm, and revealed a long, ugly scar tracing its way up her arm, just past her bicep. "You would think there would be something I could use to cover this… this _mess_, but there's bugger all in this bloody city!"

"You could just wear, you know, a long-sleeve shirt," AJ suggested. Rachel gasped in great shock.

"A long-sleeve shirt?" Rachel questioned, offended that such an idea was brought up. "That's not fashionable at all! A lady of _my_ stature shouldn't limit herself to such mediocre outfits. No, I must wear something glamorous, or wear nothing at all."

"Good, wear nothing," Dash snickered. "You please enough motherfuckers in this town as it is. Why not just strip it all off for 'em?" Tara reached over and smacked Dash in the arm, silencing the other girl.

"Didn't Pinky help you find anything?" Tara asked, finding enough energy to slowly rise to her feet. Pinky shook her head, although she never stopped smiling.

"Nope," Pinky explained. "I mean, there were lots of cute little outfits there, like shirts with pink bunnies, and pink ponies, and pink people, and pink tigers, and shirts that were just pink all over! But Rachel didn't want _any_ of them."

"I can't wear pink clothes," Rachel said. She grabbed a lock of her own violet hair, and tugged on it, showing it off. "It would completely clash against this shade of violet." Pinky shrugged.

"But how could you not buy them anyway?" Pinky asked. "I mean, just to have. Even if you didn't wear them, you could have _looked_ at them. And then, looking at them would make you want to wear them, but you'd be too busy looking at them to wear them, so you'd just look and wish and look and wish and look-"

"We get it, Pinky," Rachel rolled her eyes. "Anyway, enough about me. Tara, how's the recovery coming along?" Tara walked over to Fiona, and sat down beside her friend.

"Well, I don't feel like death when I move anymore," Tara said. "But I doubt I'm going to be back in the loop for a while. I still haven't been able to last more than a few minutes in a fight against someone; an hour most if I don't have to move that much."

"Well, you did nearly die," Rachel said. "I wouldn't expect much more."

"Yeah," Tara sighed, stretching out her arms. "But I _wish_ I could do more. I mean, we haven't accomplished anything in almost two weeks weeks."

"That's cuz there aint been any trouble in the last two weeks," AJ claimed. "Discord's done and dealt with, crime's at the lowest point in years, and all is good. Besides, the rest of us could take care of any major threats that come our way."

"Yeah, we're bad-asses," Dash said. "Calm your tits, Spark."

Tara sighed again, taking some comfort out of her friends' words. It was rather true that the others were more than capable of handling themselves. In truth, Tara didn't really do much other than make sure everyone was well coordinated. But yet, it didn't make Tara feel a sense of ease. The fact that Discord got away really bothered her. Sure, he only had one arm left, from what she heard, but it didn't mean that he wasn't still dangerous. The last time they thought that the Smiling Dragons were finished off, they came back with a fury, and Tara did not feel safe knowing that psychopath was out there somewhere. It also didn't calm her that The Unknown was a completely real threat, and that he was able to take down their entire team without much effort. The fear of the threat drove her more, though. She was incredibly determined to make sure she was back out on the field of battle as soon as possible, even if that meant rushing out when not fully recovered.

Suddenly, the door to the training area swung open, and Wilson walked in, a serious look on his face.

"Ladies," the general stated with concern. "We have a major problem. We need you in the Briefing Room. Now." He walked back through the door, and the P.O.N.Y's followed suit. They walked down the long corridors of Camelot, before they arrived at the Briefing Room. Celestia was already there, hovering over a computer, fiddling around with the keys. She backed away from the computer when the girls entered, and pointed at the screen.

"Any of you recognize this man?" Celestia asked. Tara took a look at the monitor. A still image of a man in a blue suit, waving at a crowd of people, was frozen on the screen. He was middle-aged, with many wrinkles on his face as he forced a smile. His comb-over hair was graying, and his nose was rather too wide for his face, making his whole face look flattened out. It was actually a face that Tara had seen quite often from some of her late night high-school study sessions. During those days, she used to keep her TV tuned to the news, watching the politics and economic standards of America act as sufficient background noise for her work. But she tried to keep somewhat of attention on the actual programming (as she was, of course, able to divide her attention properly), and as such she knew this man instantly from many political deals and scandals.

"That's George Hammonick," Tara stated factually. "Head of WMH Enterprises, which is-"

"-the lead provider of petroleum fuel to the United States of America," Celestia finished Tara's thoughts. "Not to mention one of the richest men on the planet. Worth nearly 20 billion dollars."

"Damn," Dash said in astonishment. "That's a _lot_ of fucking cash."

"That's not the point," Wilson joined in on the conversation. "Later today, he will be holding a press conference outside of the WMH Enterprises building to discuss some rather crucial business. Your assignment is to attend the press conference and add extra security, in case someone tries to assassinate him."

"Wait, hold up," AJ interrupted. "Why would someone want to kill this guy?"

"It's complicated," Celestia said. "A large series of political bullshit and angry taxpayers. Nothing unusual for an event like this." However, her answer did not satisfy AJ, who pressed on.

"That aint exactly answer my question," AJ said sternly. "If we are going to protect this guy, we should at least know why." Celestia sighed and looked at Wilson, as if asking him to explain everything. Wilson took a deep breath.

"Okay, here are the details," Wilson explained. "WMH Enterprises is the main source of natural fuel stemming from this country. The public believes they just sell more gas for pumping stations, but really, it's a lot worse. WMH Enterprises has been processing oxidized liquid fuel for the United States for years now, one of the only things used to power long range missiles."

"Like… nuclear?" AJ asked. Wilson nodded.

"Of course. The military has been privately contracting WMH to prevent them from outsourcing costs. The problem lies in this, however. About a week ago, it was leaked that the government was spending taxpayer money to privately fund WMH. A lot of people weren't happy with this, especially when they found out the hundreds of millions that were being spent to line Mr. Hammonick's pockets."

"So… he's a greedy corporate motherfucker?" Dash tried to confirm. "Just like every other rich asshole on Earth." Tara glared at Dash, who paid no mind to the girl's stares.

"Somewhat," Celestia chimed in. "Only when he wants to be. He _has_ greatly helped this nation in supporting the defense program, but he also has had tendencies to fire people over race, religion, sexuality, etc."

"Um, isn't that illegal in this country?" Rachel questioned.

"_Very_," Celestia noted. "But every time a claim has been filed, his legal staff has shot it down. And if anything did get past, Mr. Hammonick would have the United States government on his side. With what he's got, he's practically untouchable."

"Anyway," Wilson stated, getting back to the original topic. "George's company has been under a lot of fire recently. It turns out people aren't happy when one of the most hated Americans is receiving half of your tax dollars, especially when they think the only thing he sells is 10% ethanol. So to pass off some of the heat, Mr. Hammonick is holding a press conference today to discuss outsourcing his products to other countries. And truthfully, we think he might do it."

"So your job has two portions, really," Celestia finished. "One: protect Mr. Hammonick from any crazed gunmen looking to make national headlines. And two: put his faith back in the United States of America. Hopefully, the security job you do will make him feel like the US still supports him."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," Dash shook her head. "So you're telling me that the only reason we keep this asshole alive is so he can continue to rob people and launch fucking a-bombs?"

"In layman's terms, yes," Celestia said bluntly. A rather shocked feeling quickly spread among the girls. When put in a certain way, suddenly their motives became a lot more questionable. Dash raised her hand.

"Uh, follow up question," Dash requested. "Uh, let's see. How to put this… WHY ARE WE BOTHERING TO KEEP THIS FUCKER ALIVE, ANYWAY?!"

"Dawson, calm yourself," Wilson ordered. "We all agree that this is shady, low-brow business. But we _need_ the resources that George Hammonick is offering. If he decides to outsource, there's no telling who will be able to buy this fuel. In this time of tension, the last thing we need is a group of terrorists in the middle east buying rocket fuel."

"Besides," Celestia added. "If he dies, then the company goes to his son, who has been looking to outsource materials for years. We can't let that happen." Yet Dash continued to protest, looking around to her squad mates for support.

"Come on, don't tell me everybody is okay with this," Dash questioned aloud. It seemed quite apparent to her through the downwards glances and uncomfortable tension that everyone in the room was not comfortable with their assignment. Dash even looked to Tara for support. Tara was deep in thought about whether to challenge the authority or not. She wasn't supportive of Hammonick's government funding, or the cruel firing of his workforce. But she did understand where Wilson and Celestia were coming from. There primary goal at P.O.N.Y was to stop terrorist threats, and if Hammonick started giving away rocket fuel uncontrollably, then it could lead to a major international issue. Reluctantly, Tara came to a conclusion.

"Alright, we'll get it done," Tara said, much to the surprise of her teammates. Tara turned to face them. "Look, odds are that his private security is going to take care of all threats anyway, so there's no reason not to show up and at least look like we are helping. Besides, there are too many factors to take in. we might as well follow the chain of command, even if we do somewhat disagree with it." Celestia smirked.

"Good," Celestia said, leaving the room along with General Wilson. "The press conference is at two-thirty. Protect that man with your life." As soon as the door closed, Dash immediately turned towards Tara in rage.

"What the fuck, Spark!" Dash shouted. "You don't _really_ want to keep this prick alive do you?"

"Look, personal feelings shouldn't matter on an assignment," Tara stated. "I know you have trouble following orders, but _I_ don't. If we're being told to protect this man, then there are probably good intentions behind it, even if it may not seem that way."

Dash groaned, and marched towards the door. She considered throwing out an insult or two, but her conscience got the better of her. Since Tara had been shot, Dash had been trying to be more cooperative than she was previously being. And if that meant having to save a corrupt business man's life, then she supposed she would have to suck it up and do the job. With another groan, Dash left the room, and went to lie down on her bed to think.

* * *

It was with feelings of slight shame that the girls drove up to WMH Headquarters. The building was much taller than Tara had expected, seeming to tear though the sky. According to the original founder of WMH, William Mitchell Hammonick, the building was instructed to be built in Philadelphia rather than New York. It was William's belief that Philadelphia was a much safer place than New York City, yet he wanted to be close enough to the prime action of Wall Street, nonetheless. Because of its unnatural positioning, the WMH Headquarters towered over every other building in the area.

After taking a right turn through the main gates, they parked at a large parking complex, and exited their vehicles. Tara casually led the girls to the front of the building, where they were immediately halted by two large men in suits. The man on the left was dark-skinned and bald, a scowl permanently plastered on his face. The man on the left was incredibly pale, with buzzed red hair. They both had sunglasses on because of the bright weather, and they had earpieces on to communicate to their superiors.

"No one is allowed to enter the complex without strict higher authority," stated the guard on the left. Without any warning, Pinky jumped up right in his face, a look of intense frustration upon her.

"Do you know who we are?!" Pinky yelled at him. The man was briefly taken back by Pinky's sudden movement, but quickly readjusted himself.

"You are a group of teenagers," he said without emotion in his voice. Pinky quickly grabbed onto the collar of his suit, and pulled him down to her face, meeting his gaze with a deadly glare.

"No!" Pinky shouted. The other guard was so surprised by Pinky's hostility that he failed to react, simply watching Pinky slowly choke his partner with his own suit. "We are _the _teenagers. Don't you know how famous we are?! How crucial we are to everything?! You ought to be _ashamed_ of yourselves! If I were you, I'd simply walk off into a desert somewhere and never come back!" Tara hastily placed her hand on Pinky's shoulder, removing her friend from the guard.

"I think that's enough, Pinky," Tara said calmly. She looked at the guard, who was now adjusting the collar of his suit, which had been shuffled out of place. "We're supposed to speak to someone named McCarther. General Wilson sent us. We're the extra guard."

The guard on the right looked skeptical, examining her appearance before stating,

"How do you know about General Wilson and the call for extra guard?"

"He told us to do it," AJ explained. She pulled a card of identification out of her pocket. "I'm Agent Balle. Me and my team here have been assigned to this mission by orders of the United States government." The guard looked at her ID, and with sudden realization, he looked back at the rest of the girls.

"Wait, you're the 'top-notch super soldiers' that Wilson sent us?" the guard stated in disbelief. AJ nodded. The guard was still quite stunned. "So, that means…"

"You were the crew who took down the Smiling Dragons," the other guard stated, his face never showing any hint of surprise. Tara rubbed the back of her head.

"Uh…yeah. Sorta," Tara said sheepishly. She did not expect to hear the news of their fight against Discord spread so rapidly. She didn't think anyone would actually know about. Yet, it seemed that Wilson added some extra information, in order to make sure Hammonick bought the idea of necessary security. The guard on the left bowed his head.

"My apologies," he said. "I didn't know what prestigious positions you held. If you would follow me, I can take you to McCarther."

The guard opened the door, allowing the girls to pass inside. On the way, Pinky made sure to glare at him, a warning never to mess with her again. But the guard took it with a shrug, as he and the other guard entered the building as well, and lead the girls through the main hall. The main hall itself was very elegant, showing off all of the money WMH Enterprises had earned over the years. The walls were painted gold, and a long violet carpet had been laid out to the end of the hall. A chandelier, about two and a half meters across, was hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the room in a dim, golden glow. To the right, many pictures of both William and George Hammonick lined the walls, engorged in size to demonstrate their power. Several were just portraits of the men, created to idolize them in history, while others were blown-up photographs of important business proceedings. On the far left, past a miniature model of a WMH oil rig, was a set of three elevators, and at the end of the hall was the receptionist desk. A young woman, whose brunette hair was tied back in a bun, greeted the guards as they made their way towards the elevators.

"Hello, Brutus. Tiny. Who are the visitors?" she asked. The red-haired guard hit the button near the elevator, calling for a ride.

"Important guests for Mr. McCarther," he responded.

"Okay, I'll call up and let him know that his guests have arrived," the receptionist said. As the elevator arrived and the group entered, they saw the receptionist pick up her phone and call up her boss. The door closed, and the gang moved upwards to the 27th floor, where McCarther was waiting. The ride was mostly in silence; the girls huddled in the back as the large guards stood by the door. Rachel attempted to break the ice, though, turning to the red-haired guard.

"So… why do they call you 'Tiny'?" Rachel asked. However, it was the other guard that responded, never looking away from the doors.

"Because some jackass thought it would be hilarious to give me that as a codename once I got rid of my old one," he explained. He said it with anger, yet he was still attempting to remain emotionless. The result sounded like a growl, and Rachel decided that it would be best not to ask any more questions.

"What was your old name?" Pinky suddenly spoke up. Rachel glared at her, but Pinky didn't understand the reason why. Luckily, instead of ripping Pinky in half (which, based on his stature, seemed possible), he simply let out a grunt.

"Thunderball," he said with disdain. Pinky giggled, which resulted in Rachel slapping her in the back of the head. Pinky winced and rubbed her wound, still looking at Rachel, confused. For the rest of the ride, no one spoke, and for this, Rachel was rather thankful.

The doors opened, and the girls stepped out into a very small hallway. It was only three meters in length, and it abruptly ended with two large wooden doors. Brutus gently rapped on the door, and after a few seconds, a clicking sound was heard, and the door was unlocked. Brutus opened the door, revealing an office, and an aging man walking towards his desk.

"Ah, come in, come in," the man said. The room was crowded with many trivial belongings, most of which had no purpose in an office. In the center of the room was a mahogany desk, stacked high with papers and files on all fronts. The desk barely had room to hold a computer system, that of which look like something from 2006. Behind the desk were glass panels, revealing the vast city in which they were. To the right was a set of golf clubs, and a miniature green, complete with a red and white flag sticking out of the hole. To the left, another desk, this time piled high with trophies, sports paraphernalia, pictures of family, and movie posters. The man, who was now believed to be McCarther, sat behind his desk and stretched. He was a short man, balding white hair pointed out at the side. Wrinkles covered his face. His suit, which had once seemed very formal, was now left mostly unbuttoned, and the sleeves were rolled up past his elbows. He spoke everything with a grin, as if he ran the entire world and nothing could ever change it.

"So, you gals are Wilson's soldiers?" McCarther asked, leaning his feet against the table. His voice was high and scratchy, as if something had been scraping against his throat for years. Tara stepped forward.

"Yes, sir," Tara spoke respectfully. "We are the extra protection that was requested for this afternoon." McCarther chuckled.

"Well, I can't say I expected such beautiful young ladies to do the job," McCarther spoke loudly, exaggerating all of his words. "I'm McCarther, Mr. Hammonick's top advisor. Pleasure to meet you."

McCarther reached across his desk, his open palm outstretched. Tara grabbed hold of his hand, and experienced one of the weakest handshakes she had ever known. Tara let go, and awkwardly took a step back.

"So, uh, what's the plan for today?" Tara asked. McCarther clasped his hands together, got up from his desk, and walked over to his golf clubs.

"Ah, it's really quite simple actually," McCarther stated, selectively choosing a club and a ball. "So, Ol' George-y is going to be standing right outside this building here at one, security guys on all sides of him. That's just in case some shmuck tries to smack him in the face." McCarther placed the ball on the green, and then removed the flag from the hole. "But see, our main concerns are either people in the crowd, or a sniper on the roof. That's where you girls come in. See, the large crowd is going to gather round in front of the building, and we're going to put you girls inside." McCarther took aim with his putter. "You'll act like your part of the civilians, but really, you'll keep a watch out for trouble. You'll get headsets to tell us if you see something weird. Someone on the roof, person with a gun, things like that."

"Wait," said Dash. "You do know who we are, right? We took out Discord. I even cut his damn _arm_ off. But despite that, you're going to just hide us in the crowd?" McCarther swung his club, and the ball rolled down the green, just barely turning to the left and missing the hole.

"That's the plan!" McCarther said as he grabbed another ball. Dash crossed her arms.

"That 'plan' sounds real fucking stupid," Dash said. Tara glared at her.

"Dash, show the man some respect," Tara commanded. But McCarther simply laughed, placing the ball back on the green.

"Haha, I _love_ when people challenge authority!" McCarther took another shot, this one curving ever so slightly to the left once more. "That takes guts! I like you, toots!"

"Toots?" Dash asked.

"Yeah!" McCarther grabbed another ball, placed it on the green, and too another swing. This time, the ball rolled smoothly down the green, falling right into the hole. "Look, I've been seeing people riot at these press things before. Trust me, it's not a big deal that you're here. Some people will call him a socialist, he'll announce some bullshit plan to use less oil, and then we'll be on our merry way. Nothing will go wrong, and even if something did, we got a _shit_ ton of guards ready to take care of it. They'll be in the crowds, in the buildings, and pretty much everywhere else. Now, what's most important for you is after the press conference. You got to speak to George, and make sure he knows that the good old USA has got his back."

"So, you don't want him to outsource his resources either?" Tara asked. McCarther readied another swing.

"Holy Moses, no!" McCarther said, holding his chest. "You know what kind of money that would cost? Jesus H. Christ, it would be a disaster!"

"So you're just another greedy corporate jackass, then," Dash stated factually. Tara glared at her again.

"Rebecca…" Tara said with warning. But McCarther laughed once again.

"No, she's right!" McCarther laughed out. "I mean, everyone's a greedy bastard! But the only difference, toots, is that I have money to start with!" McCarther got another good shot off, as the ball once again rolled into the hole. "Look, all you gotta do is make sure Hammonick is happy, and all will be well and good. If you do your job right, it could mean big things for all of ya! Now, if you excuse me, I got a visitor coming up in fifteen minutes named Lucy Mai, and _boy_, is she something!"

McCarther motioned the girls out of the room, and awkwardly, they walked away from the grinning business man. They left the room, closing the door behind them, and then they were greeted by Brutus and Tiny. They re-entered the elevator, and started their descent downwards. The waited in silence, as the elevator crawled down to floor number three. The doors opened, and the girls found themselves faced with another small passage, this time leading to a single gray, steel door. The girls entered the room, while the guards waited by the door.

"Put your gear on," Tiny instructed, before shutting the door leaving the girls alone. They started to put on their gear, and now that they were alone, they began to quietly talk to one another.

"Man, that guy was creepy," Dash stated.

"You could have been a little nicer to him," Tara scolded. Dash grunted.

"No fucking way," Dash said. "You saw that guy. He seemed like someone who would try to rape me in an alleyway."

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Fiona said softly, keeping her face hidden, from Dash, not wanting to look at her. "But I didn't like him much either."

"Yeah," Pinky said, not bothering to lower her tone much, despite those who could be listening. "He reminded me of weird Uncle Leonard. He always acted really strange around girls. I never got it. Actually, it's kind of funny. He always used to stare at them, but he made this weird face when doing it, and it was actually kind of funny-looking. Like this one time at my Bat mitzvah, I had one of my friend's there, and Uncle Leonard kept asking her to get in his car to help him find his keys, but I could see his keys in his hand, so I didn't know what he was talking about. Funny, I haven't actually seen Uncle Leonard since then. I wonder what he's doing now." Pinky was so caught up in her story that she didn't notice the disturbed stares she was receiving. She looked around and noticed her friends' faces, oblivious to their horrific thoughts. "What?" Pinky asked innocently. Rachel spoke up.

"Um, Pinky," Rachel said slowly. "I, uh, think your uncle might b-… wait, you're _Jewish_?"

"Look, that's not important right now," Tara interrupted. "What we have to focus now is getting our job done. We can talk about Pinky's creepy family later." Tara finished putting on her earpiece, and walked back to the door, while Pinky angrily huffed and crossed her arms over chest.

"My family's not creepy," Pinky muttered to herself, insulted. "Você quer dizer grande idiota."

* * *

As the crowd of angry protesters surrounded WMH Headquarters, Tara took a deep breath. She had placed herself within the audience, surrounded by people holding signs and shouting out hate-filled words. They were positioned in front of a platform, where a podium was being placed. Security guards gathered around the platform, most of the men lined up in front, holding off the angry masses. Extra guards were gathered on the side steps to the platform, so that the entire section was sealed off from the public. Multiple cameras were set up close to the platform, with reporters getting ready to film the aftermath of the press conference. Tara looked around nervously, searching for any signs of trouble. While she did see many people holding signs, she spotted none holding any weapons. They were right inside of WMH property, after all, and anyone who did actually have a gun was most likely turned away at the gates. Tara looked above and behind herself, to the other buildings in the area. She once again did not see any suspicious activity, which did not surprise her either. And yet, despite seeing no apparent danger, Tara couldn't shake the intense feeling of paranoia out of her system. She attributed it to being undercover in amongst a group of very angry people, most of which were much larger than she was. She couldn't help but think about what would happen if they found out what she was doing. She knew that there was no way it could ever happen, but that didn't stop horrific images from seeping into her mind of what it would look like if it did. She imagined the protesters turning on her, attacking her, ripping her to pieces in a bout of unrelenting fury.

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by soft words coming through her earpiece.

"Um, Tara… are you alright?" Tara heard Fiona ask. Tara shook the thoughts out of her head.

"Yeah, of course," Tara responded calmly. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I can see you from where I'm positioned," Fiona explained. "And it looked like you were, you know, freaking out there for a minute." Tara rotated around; trying to spot Fiona through the crowd of people, yet her vision was blocked by the vast array of signs and arms flying about.

"I'm _fine_, Fiona," Tara insisted.

"You fucking _better_ be," Tara heard Dash reply through the buzzing in her ear. Tara had briefly forgotten that everyone would be hearing their conversation, and momentarily felt slightly embarrassed by it. "I can see Hammonick coming now. Stay on the lookout."

True to Dash's word, Tara saw a group of security personal acting as an entourage for George Hammonick, as he approached the left side of the platform. He had his face was contorted into a scowl, giving off the feeling that he was incredibly annoyed by the entire ordeal. As he walked onto the platform, the volume of the crowd's boos and curses increased. George Hammonick paid no mind to the crowd, striding towards the podium with his head held high. He reached the podium, and pulled out a series of papers from under his arm, laying them out before him. He cleared his throat, knowing that what he said was being broadcast for all to see.

"Hello, my name is George Hammonick, CEO of William Mitchell Hammonick Enterprises," George stated. Immediately, he was met with boos from the crowd. "For the past forty years, our company has strived to guarantee that the finest oil possible is delivered to the public at the cheapest price. Recently, our company has come under fire from some 'inside sources', claiming that we are using taxpayer dollars to supply the United States military with fuel for use in ballistic and nuclear missiles. Well, today I am here to put an end to these rumors."

George paused, as numerous more screams erupted from the audience. Many disgraceful words were thrown about, and George tried to keep a straight face during the ordeal, not wanting to let his anger show.

"I am going to make this perfectly clear. The rumors that WMH Enterprises is supplying rocket fuel to the American military are _false_."

"You're a _liar_!"

Cries burst forth from the crowd. George continued talking over them, trying to keep his cool.

"The rumors that we are stealing from the public are nothing but _lies_, as well!" George now stated more forcefully. The security guards ordered the crowd to quiet down. "This entire backwashed scheme that has been constructed is nothing more than our competitors trying to tear us apart. But once checked into reality, it makes no sense. Our company releases _records_ of our products, and nowhere does it ever state that we produce rocket fuel. And while we are on the topic, it is ridiculous to assume that we at WMH Enterprises make our money from collecting taxes. We are good, honest people working for a good honest cause!"

Still, the crowd remained unconvinced. A group of people stared to chant about showing peace and love. One man shouted out hatred for the liberal media, and a woman shouted out that George Hammonick should be lynched. Despite all of this commotion, George continued his speech.

"Now, one thing that is true is our limited outsourcing to other countries," George said truthfully, and because of this, the cries died down. "And we have received quite a cry from the public to change our ways. So, after months of consideration, we at WMH Enterprises have decided to outsource our natural fuel to other nations in the world." The clamoring from the crowd stopped, and some people actually calmed down very much. Tara heard people speaking through her earpiece.

"Is he _really_ going to start selling off resources to other countries?" Rachel asked.

"I doubt it," AJ replied. "It's just somethin' to win over the crowd. Get rid of some controversy. A few false reports, and the public will never know."

Suddenly, a cry rang forth throughout the crowd.

"He's lying!" An angry man shouted. "It's just more lies fed to us to keep us in place!" With that, the crowd grew loud again, continuing to burst forth with rage. George Hammonick watched as the people started to turn against him once more. He opened his mouth to say something, when something unexpected happened.

His head exploded.

Everyone stopped their protesting, and watched as bits of George's skull fell to the floor. No gunshot was ever heard, and no killer was ever spotted. All that happened was that time slowed down, as George's blood rained down upon the audience.

And at that moment, from over a mile away, looking through the scope of a sniper rifle, a raven-haired, pale skinned assassin smiled, as the crowd burst out into panic.

The people ran and screamed as the body of George Hammonick fell to the ground. Some security guards ran over to his body, while others tried to calm the crowd down. Tara found herself lost among the swarm of protestors, and felt many people knock into her, causing her to nearly lose her balance and fall over. As Tara tried to avoid being trampled to death, she heard confused cries coming through her earpiece.

"What the hell is going on?" Rachel shouted over the panic.

"Someone in this crowd must have had a weapon," Dash explained. Through the chaos, Tara saw Dash several yards away, pushing through the crowd towards the main gates, where people were swarming out of the area. "We have to stop them!" As Dash shoved her way along, knocking several protestors over, Tara noticed AJ pushing her way to the platform. AJ quietly slipped through the crowd, and hopped onto the platform. None of the guards took notice of her, which gave her the easy chance to hop behind the podium. AJ carefully looked around. She didn't know why, but she didn't think anyone in the crowd was the executor. Even with the intense shouting of the crowd, AJ would know the sound of a gunshot instantly. Yet, she heard none, which meant one of two things.

It was possible some form of poison was fed into George's system, which triggered a cataclysmic rupturing of his brain. But as far as AJ knew, that didn't exist, which meant that the second (and worse) choice was more likely. AJ looked at the podium carefully, calculating in her head the trajectory from the nearby buildings to where George was standing. After being fairly certain her math was accurate, AJ walked about three meters behind the podium. AJ was looking for a dark impact mark on the ground, but she couldn't find anything. She lined herself up directly with the closest buildings, holding her arm out to make sure she was exact. AJ looked around, scanning the ground as precisely as possible, and yet, there was no indication of any sort of impact.

But suddenly, something caught her eye. Another ten yards back from the podium, AJ spotted some irregularity on the ground. Running up to it, AJ finally found what she was looking for. A deep incision was placed in the ground, leaving a black smear across the pavement, gravel kicked up beside it. And then AJ noticed something else about the black smear. Right in the center of the impact, an image was faintly visible through the charred ground. And with shock, AJ recognized the insignia.

An image of a raven's skeleton was visible in the impact zone. AJ was abruptly brought out of her stupor when she heard buzzing deep in her ear.

"AJ, where are you?" Tara was calling out. "It's chaos out here. We need help controlling this crowd."

_BANG BANG BANG_

Suddenly, more shots rang out throughout the crowd, this time near the front gates. AJ quickly took out her weapon, and ran up onto the platform to see what was happening. However, AJ was surprised to see none other than Dash standing by the gate, shooting her pistol into the air.

"EVERYONE, STOP!" Dash was shouting to the crowd. "THIS IS A CRIME SCENE! NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO LEAVE! IF YOU REFUSE TO LISTEN, I WILL-" However, Dash was cut off when she felt Tara place her hand upon her shoulder and spin her around.

"What are you doing?!" Tara demanded to know. "You can't just threaten a hundred innocent people like that!"

"How do we know there innocent?" Dash retorted. "You saw what happened. Our contract failed! And one of these people _has_ to be responsible."

"Calm down, Dash," Tara instructed. "You're certainly not helping the situation."

"What if one of the guys who left here was the killer?" Dash spoke defensively.

"I don't think that'll be the case, Dash," AJ suddenly said, pushing her way to the girls through the dimming crowd. "I think I know who the killer is."

"Well, who is it?" Tara asked instinctively. AJ shook her head.

"That's the thing," AJ said with concern in her voice. "If I'm right about this, then her name is the last thing you want to know."

* * *

The mood at Camelot was rather somber. It wasn't uncommon for the girls to be feeling some sense of failure after a mission, but this was unlike anything they had felt before, for there was no visible source to direct their anger to. The Briefing Room wasn't filled with silence however, as three men were researching on several monitors throughput the room. AJ was trying to explain her theory to Wilson and Celestia, but they seemed doubtful.

"I'm telling ya," AJ said with confidence. "I saw the raven in the bullet shell. It _has_ to be her."

"Let me get this straight," Wilson said. "You believe that Melanie Moon killed George Hammonick today, and the only proof you have of this was her insignia in a bullet imprint." AJ nodded.

"Look, AJ," Celestia sighed. "It's not like we don't trust you. Your expertise is substantial. But I severely doubt that Melanie Moon could even be in America, let alone kill one of the most important men in the world."

"Um, excuse me, but…" Fiona softly interjected. "Who is Melanie Moon?" Fiona, after drawing the attention of the crowd, covered her face in embarrassment. Celestia crossed her arms.

"Do you remember that political uprising in Germany a about seven years back?" Celestia asked. "Where several of the wealthiest men in Germany tried to monopolize the government. The girls looked at each other, and then collectively shook their heads and shrugged. "Of course you don't. But you probably remember a series of freak accidents where several wealthy executive class citizens died, right?"

Although most girls looked confused, Tara recalled something similar she heard on the news many years ago, about a rich man dying in a car crash, the results of which were so graphic that the images could not be shown.

"I think I remember that," Tara said, recalling more events. "I didn't really pay much attention to it, but I do remember that some people thought it was a curse on the upper class."

"Somewhat so, yes," Wilson said, turning to one of the men on a computer. "Bring up an image of Melanie Moon." Quickly following the order, the man rushed to pull up the only known image of the woman, as Wilson continued to explain. "See, a long while back, probably before you were even born, a German-born assassin named Melanie Moon started to sell her experience to the highest bidder. She made herself prominent during the Algerian Civil War, where she worked for the GIA to assassinate several prominent targets."

"So… she's a hit man," Dash summarized. Wilson shook his head.

"No, she's much, _much_ worse than that," Wilson said. At this time, the image was found, and was quickly brought up on the large screen. It was a mug shot, although one of the most terrifying ones that Tara had ever seen.

Melanie Moon had hair that was blacker than night, and it ran down past her waist. Her skin was nearly pure white, so much so that, coupled with her bony structure, Moon looked more like a ghost than an actual person. On the left side of her neck, a tattoo of a raven was gazing up to her face, looking to her for guidance. Her right arm was covered with self-inflicted injuries, although they were not in a particularly good position if Moon had actually wished to kill herself. Taking another look at her arm, Tara suddenly understood what they were: tally marks. The markings Moon gave herself for every human life she ended. Countless groups of five ran down both sides of her arm, shoulder to wrist, cutting off at Moon's gloved hand.

And then, Tara saw her eyes. Her eyes were shaded dark, no matter how much light would be shown upon them, and two icy blue pupils stared back at Tara. If she hadn't known any better, Tara would say that Moon was piercing through her body with her gaze, looking right through her soul.

"T-that's Melanie Moon?" Tara said, trying to hide her feeling of discomfort from staring at Moon's image. Celestia nodded.

"I know, _lovely_, right?" Celestia remarked sarcastically. "Moon made a name for herself in the way her victims died. She became infamous because the enemy never knew she had been watching them until they were already dead. She stalked the target without ever having to move from her vantage point. The fear she spread through Algeria was legendary. So much so, they gave her the nickname of 'Living Nightmare'. Her kill count was easily over a hundred."

"It was her weapon that carried her," Wilson explained. "Moon designed herself a .75 caliber sniper rifle; the most powerful long range weapon ever devised. She could easily take out foes from two miles away. It caused devastating to the victim if they were hit. And Moon has never been known to miss her targets."

"Not to mention," interrupted AJ. "That her custom designed shells were made to separate after impact, leaving behind her insignia, so all would know she was there. Therefore, it seems pretty obvious to me that Moon was the one who killed George Hammonick today."

"Except for the one glaring flaw in that theory," Celestia stated.

"What is it?" Tara asked.

"After the assassinations in Germany, the government got worried that if the public found out they hired Melanie Moon, a huge blow to their reputation would be dealt," Celestia explained. "They called the U.S. government, and we worked out a deal. We supplied them with details about Moon's history, and a few weeks later, they arrested the Living Nightmare on account of war crimes. She's been in jail for the past seven years, and will remain there for life."

"In fact, she was placed in solitary confinement," Wilson explained. "She was viewed as a danger to other inmates, and as such they have a security camera keep watch on her at all times. If she takes a piss, we'll know about. There is no conceivable way that Moon could be in Philadelphia."

AJ groaned.

"I know what I saw," AJ said with determination. "No one else could pull off a kill like that. The entire surrounding area was checked, and no one was found with a weapon. It _had_ to be her."

"Look, AJ, your eyes must have been mistaken," Celestia said firmly. "We are just as baffled by this whole thing as you are. We need to find the killer fast. Already, ownership of the country has shifted to George Hammonick's son, and he is in talks of outsourcing fuel. We cannot maintain the same kind of dominance if he thinks that we couldn't save George."

"Are you kidding me?" Dash suddenly spoke up. "We got a crazed assassin on the loose, and all you're thinking about is _money_?!"

"First of all, Moon is not 'on the loose'," Celestia said. "And second of all, this is a _major_ problem for all of us, not just America. By the way, Rebecca, from what I've heard, you fired shots into a crowd of protesters earlier today."

"Yeah," Dash said with pride. Rachel, who hadn't heard of this, gasped.

"You fried shots at people?" Rachel said in disbelief.

"I thought the killer could've been there," Dash said, excusing herself of the vanity of the act. "I needed to get everyone under control. It made perfect sense at the time."

"It was completely unreasonable," Wilson scolded. "We certainly don't approve of shooting innocent civilians, even if one _may_ have been a criminal. I should dismiss you from this operation right now."

"Go ahead," Dash taunted. "Do it." Tara looked at Dash, somewhat concerned.

"Dash, don't tempt them…" Tara warned. However, Wilson dismissed Tara's concerned with a wave of his hand.

"Don't worry," Wilson said. "Dawson is too valuable of an asset to let go of. Besides, I got a call from McCarther. It seems like he was very impressed with your dedication today. He said something about offering you a guard job for tomorrow night."

Naturally, Tara and Dash were both very shocked to hear this, and both replied with disdain.

"She's getting rewarded for this kind of behavior?" Tara said, disapprovingly. "I can't believe it! What kind of sicko would ever hire _her_?"

"You know, I actually kind of agree with Spark on this one," Dash said angrily. "That guy looked like he wanted to have his way with me. And honestly, I don't feel like getting that asshole's cock shoved down my throat tomorrow night. Tell him that I pass."

"Too late," Celestia said. "We already told him that you accepted the job."

"WHAT?!" Dash yelled furiously. "Why would you ever do that?!"

"Because we still need people on the inside," Wilson stated. "If we find out what the inner thoughts of WMH Enterprises are, then we can better plan ahead. If we can send advice through the top adviser of the company, it will leave a massive impact."

"Consider it punishment for attacking the crowd," Celestia said, unable to contain her smirk. "You are dismissed."

Dash growled, and angrily marched out of the room. The others followed her, making sure to stay a few steps back as they walked to their sleeping quarters.

_Can't believe those fucking motherfuckers,_ Dash thought to herself. She wasn't exaggerating when she stated that McCarther creeped her out, which it took a lot to do. She couldn't shake the feeling that if she got left alone with that man, she would wake up naked in an alley way, or would find herself strapped to the tracks as a train was coming. It disturbed her that McCarther had complimented her in such a creepy fashion. "Toots" was the worst thing she had ever heard come out of an old person's mouth. She had a notion of seeing people for the worse, and all she saw in McCarther was a court case waiting to happen. Dash entered the sleeping quarters, and lied down on her bunk. She heard someone enter behind her, but didn't bother to see who it was.

"You know that nothing bad will happen tomorrow night," Dash heard Tara assuring her from behind.

"I can't believe they would send me to that creepy dick," Dash complained into her pillow.

"You need to trust Wilson with this," Tara suggested. "I'm sure he wouldn't put your life in any real danger."

"We fight terrorists, Spark," Dash groaned. "We're already in danger. A little more risk wouldn't do much to his conscience." Dash sighed into her pillow. "I don't trust authority much. All they ever seem to do is screw people over."

"Well, if you want my advice," Tara said. "Maybe you should try to be a little more trusting of others."

"And if you want _my_ advice," Dash sneered. "Then I suggest you go slit your wrists. I'm not really interested in hearing your pro-authority speeches right now. Just leave me alone." Tara sighed.

"Fine," Tara said in defeat. "I thought it would be nice to try and calm you down a little; but _clearly_, you just want to be alone. And since I am trying to be your friend, I will respect that."

"Thank you," Dash said sarcastically. "Just don't forget to cut vertically. Trust me when I say that is a _lot_ more efficient."

Tara walked out of the room, leaving Dash to lie on her bed. Tara _was_ trying hard to improve her relationship with Dash. She had hoped that getting Dash to talk about her concerns would make the girl open up more, but clearly, Dash was still upset about Tara's disapproval of her behavior. Tara hoped that after Dash finished her job for McCarther, or after they found Hammonick's murderer, that Dash would finally take some steps forward in her trusting of others.

But as for now, it looked like Dash was going to continue down her path of fighting against the wishes of others, and Tara hoped that Dash would at least handle herself decently the next night.

* * *

**November 2****nd****, 2015**

On the night of November 2nd, P.O.N.Y put two plans into motion. The first of which was Dash's job, which she could not say she was excited for. Granted, she had no idea what the job entailed, but she knew that if it was spent around McCarther, she would hate it. For her assignment, Dash had been requested something to make her mission at least a little more enjoyable. Dash didn't know how, but she had convinced Wilson to give her a small present during the ride over to WMH Enterprises. Dash smiled, briefly taking her eyes off the road to look at her crimson motorcycle, as she revved down empty streets. Dash had never actually rode a motorcycle before, but with some decent acting, she managed to convince Wilson to fork over the chopper to her for the night. Dash didn't even know if P.O.N.Y had a motorcycle in their inventory. She knew that they kept a large number of vehicles hidden around Wu Song's, but she could have only dreamed of something like this happening. Dash's brain was telling her to take her time, and make the ride last as long as possible. But Dash's instinct kept telling her that 60 miles per hour wasn't _nearly_ fast enough, and Dash was always much more prone to listen to her instincts. Dash rode the bike as if she had done it every day of her life, expertly weaving around the occasional incoming traffic, and making sharp turns with ease. Dash's own desires got the better of her in the end, as she pulled up to WMH Enterprises much sooner than she would have actually liked to. Dash sighed reluctantly, and got off her bike, removing her helmet and placing it on one of the handles. She took slow steps toward the building, savoring every extra minute that she wasted outside. After slowing down to the point that it was physically uncomfortable, her feet finally managed to carry her through the front gate, and to the large double doors of the entrance, where Tiny and Brutus awaited. Tiny sneered as Dash approached.

"Took your time getting through the gate, I see," Tiny remarked. Dash spat on the ground, and then snorted.

"Blow me," Dash said in retaliation. "So, you fuckers gonna let me through, or what?"

Tiny sighed at Dash's lack of respect, and then he and Brutus opened the door. Dash once again walked through the halls of WMH Enterprises, noticing that much had not changed overnight. The paintings, plants, and chandelier were all the same. The only difference that Dash noticed was that the receptionist was much more somber than she was the other day. The three of them walked to the elevator, and then started their ascent to floor 27.

Dash couldn't help but notice that Tiny never seemed to have any sort of emotion during his work, which to Dash seemed like he wasn't enjoying himself. She was rather bored, and she was sure that he wouldn't mind the conversation, so Dash tried to put on her best "Pinky attitude", and tried to make the elevator ride more enjoyable for everyone.

"So, just out of curiosity," Dash said. "Are you guys like, _lovers_, or something? Cuz I'm sensing a lot of sexual frustration between you two.

"Humph," was all that Tiny said, continuing to stare at the doors.

"I don't know why," Dash continued. "But I'm getting the feeling that _he_'s the quarterback, and _you're_ the receiver. I'm _right_, right. Or do you just, like alternate every night? Is it like, you go down on _him,_ or…"

"Stop talking," Tiny said with little emotion. Dash smiled.

"It's _totally_ that, isn't it?" Dash smirked. "I don't know why you're so tense about it. We can all get married in this state. You don't just have to jerk each other off in a K-Mart bathroom, you know." The elevator came to a halt, and Dash strode with pride out of the doors. She put her hand on the door, before turning back to the guards. "Try not to still be blowing each other when I come back out, you here? I really don't feel like being part of an orgy tonight."

Dash walked through the doors, and found herself alone in the office with McCarther. The man of concern was sitting behind his desk, talking on the phone and remaining unaware of Dash's presence.

"No, let your people talk to _my_ people," McCarther said. He suddenly Dash standing in the room with him, looking rather annoyed to be there. "I'll call you back, Davie." McCarther hung up the phone, and rose up from his seat. For someone who had recently lost one of his closest friends, he didn't seem to Dash like he was grieving. From what Dash saw, he looked almost glad.

"Glad you could come, toots," McCarther said happily. Dash groaned.

"Yeah, whatever," Dash rolled her eyes. "What do I have to do?" McCarther clasped his hands together.

"Oh, we'll be having so much fun tonight," McCarther assured. He pointed over to his paraphernalia-stacked desk, where a neatly-folded suit was laid about. "First, put that on. You got to look the part." Dash reluctantly walked over to the desk, and looked at the suit. It was a black business suit, and it looked like it had been tailored to fit her perfectly. Dash wasn't entirely enthusiastic about wearing such an outfit. She felt like if she were to put it on, she would become the very corporate business type she always hated. Yet she found that she didn't really have much of a choice. She had a job to do, and she supposed that she would have to play along with whatever McCarther wanted for now. And, in afterthought, Dash at least found comfort that at least she wasn't forced to dress like a catholic schoolgirl, or some sexy nurse. If that had been the case, then she would have thrown herself out of the window without a second thought. But now, as she was thinking of other perverse things she could have been doing, she realized that she had nowhere to change. She looked back at McCarther, who was sitting calmly at his desk, staring at the monitor.

"Hey, cock bite," Dash called out. "Where am I supposed to change?" McCarther seemed relatively uninterested.

"Just change wherever," McCarther said with a brief wave of his hand. "I aint looking."

Dash shuddered at the response. She didn't believe McCarther for a minute, and had the horrible thoughts of him watching her change. It genuinely creeped her out to even think of it. Still, she did have to get changed. She groaned again, and took off her white sneakers that she had worn into over three years. She placed them aside, and, while keeping a close eye on McCarther, pulled the suit over her own clothes. The suit felt uncomfortable pressing against her clothing, and it reminded her why she never wore the outfits in the first place. After her suit was put on, she slipped back on her white sneakers, and Mccarther rose from his desk.

"So, you ready to have some_ fun_ tonight?" McCarther asked excitedly.

"Ab-so-lutley!" Dash replied sarcastically with a fake grin.

"Great!" said McCarther, not picking up on the sarcasm. The two left the office, passing by Tiny and Brutus, who had not moved. They immediately entered the elevator with McCarther and Dash, and the doors closed, as the elevator descended.

"So…" Dash said, shifting in place. "Where exactly are we going?" Nobody responded, however. The guards continued to stand perfectly still, while McCarther was practically bouncing up and down in excitement. He was too engulfed in his joy to pay attention to Dash, and she rolled her eyes. "Fine, be a prick."

"Show Mr. McCarther respect," Tiny commanded without ever looking back at Dash.

"Suck my dick," Dash retorted. "It's not like something you've never done before."

Tiny groaned as the doors opened, and the four of them walked back out through the lobby. Outside, a black limousine was waiting for them, the back door already opened. A man waited by the door, and welcomed the group into the limousine. As she entered, Dash was actually amazed by what was able to fit in such a small area. Multiple television screens, a full wine shelter, and what appeared to be a shrimp bar were present inside the back of the limousine. Dash took a seat on one of the chairs, and instantly sank into it. She didn't bother to try and stay formal, opting instead to relax into the chair, and let out a deep sigh. Dash was a very big fan of self-enjoyment, and she intended to make her beliefs well-outspoken. She reached over, and grabbed a shrimp. Without a moment's hesitation, she popped it into her mouth, happy to note that it had already been peeled of its outer layers.

"Like that?" McCarther asked joyfully, taking a seat. "That's freshly imported shrimp from the coast of Maine. Great stuff! We fill the car up with it when I decide to go out." Dash's mood immediately damped once McCarther spoke.

_Oh, right,_ Dash unhappily thought. _I have to work with this guy. So much for enjoying myself_.

And then, Dash popped another shrimp into her mouth anyway, realizing that, despite the awful feeling she had that it was designed to poison her, it was still rather good shrimp.

* * *

During this night, a two part plan developed by P.O.N.Y. was put into effect. As Dash was busy working with McCarther, the other five girls were in charge of investigating the murder of George Hammonick. This is how Tara found herself sitting in the back of a van, as AJ drove to the morgue, where Hammonick's body was being held. It wasn't a long drive, and Pinky at least kept her consistency of trying to keep car rides interesting by telling long stories over their duration. Soon, the girls pulled up to a small, brick building, which was left empty overnight. The van slowly pulled through the parking lot, which was completely abandoned. Despite the fact that one of the most famous corpses was currently resting here, it seemed no one cared much for what dead men did at night. Tara was actually quite surprised by this. It seemed to her that someone from WMH Enterprises would watch over the building, or at the least some basic policemen. But no one was there. As the girls exited the van, Tara still instructed them to be cautious of any threats. They walked to the side entrance, keeping a lookout for any guards they might have missed.

"AJ, are you sure you can identify this?" Tara asked quietly. AJ nodded.

"The bullet passed straight through Hammonick's skull," AJ explained to the girls once again. "The actual bullet was buried too deep in the ground for me to get. But a projectile traveling at that power would have left some sort of mark on the target. All I need is to get my hands on a piece of George's skull, and then I think I can get a sample of DNA." AJ approached the side entrance, as predicted, the door was locked. "Rachel, give me the hairpins."

"Got it," Rachel replied, taking two of her pins out of her hair, causing her violet locks to fall down past her shoulders. She gave the pins to AJ. AJ kneeled down, placing the pin within the keyhole, and after a few seconds of careful turning, a click was heard, and the door became unlocked. AJ pushed the doors open, and the girls entered the dark hallways of the morgue. There was no light switch, leaving the girls to wander around in the darkness. Luckily, AJ came prepared, taking a flashlight out of her pocket.

The girls moved hesitantly forward, a feeling of unease slowly descending upon them. Perhaps it was the sensation of being surrounded with corpses that shook their nerves, or perhaps it was the fact that they were trespassing in place that was normally heavily guarded by police. Either way, it seemed that only AJ was not shaken by their presence in the morgue. Pinky did not appear nervous either, but Tara attested that more to Pinky's overwhelming cheerful nature, not an actual testament of the girl's feelings. Fiona, in particular, seemed the most frightened, huddling rather close to the center of the group, and wrapping her arms tightly around herself. Rachel looked around cautiously for any breaks in the hall, which occupied enough of her attention to make her forget that she was stuck in a building with rotting sacks of human flesh. Tara wished she had a weapon. Of course, she did keep her sword in the trunk of the car, but the group had been instructed to leave all weapons in the van. If they would have been caught by police while sneaking in, the last thing they would want to be caught with were guns.

As he girls walked further down the halls, AJ checked in each room they passed. The first two rooms on the left were office spaces. The next one on the right was a door to the main entrance. AJ shined her flashlight into the next room on her left, and smirked.

"Here we go," AJ said as she entered the room, turning on the light. She entered a small gray room, white tiles covering the walls. In the center of the room was a gray table, two meters in length. On the table were two black bags. The first was human-shaped, and a zipper lined the top of it, which was partially opened. Inside the bag, the body of George Hammonick was visible. AJ examined the body, as the rest of the girls entered the room. Rachel turned her head away from the body, covering her mouth and nose.

"Jesus Christ, that smells rancid," Rachel said in disgust. Tara walked up to the table, and picked up the other bag, which was no bigger than her own head. She looked inside, and then frowned.

"Ugh," Tara said distastefully. "Hey AJ, I think this is what you need to be looking at. Tara handed the bag over to AJ. AJ emptied the bag's components onto the table. Bits and pieces of George Hammonick's head flopped on the table, which disturbed Rachel so much that she had to leave the room.

"That's _revolting_," Rachel moaned. AJ started to search through the pieces of skull flesh.

"Haven't ya _killed_ people before?" AJ asked, confused. Rachel didn't turn back to AJ when she responded.

"That's different," Rachel explained. "I killed gang members. I didn't play around with their _corpses_ afterwards."

"I aint playing," AJ grunted. "I'm looking for-… wait! I got it!"

AJ triumphantly held up a crescent shaped piece of skull. On the outside, blood had caked into the skin, staining it red. The inside looked the same, except for one notable detail: a black smudge on the inside of the skull.

"Great," AJ said happily. "Once we get back to Camelot, we can run a DNA test on this sucker. Hopefully, it still has traces of the killer's fingerprints from when they loaded the bullet into the clip. Now all we gotta do is get out of here."

"Finally," Fiona said with relief. "This place scares me."

"I concur," Rachel said. "I think I'm going to be sick."

AJ replaced the other pieces of brain matter back into the bag, and then shut off the light once she reentered the hall. If all went well, no one would ever even know that the girls were there. AJ turned back in her flashlight as they walked back to the side entrance. For once, Tara realized, their mission had been a complete success. They accomplished their goal rather efficiently, and they didn't run into any trouble. Tara was very thankful that she didn't have to put any more strain on her already-aching body, and was looking forward to getting back to Camelot. Tara considered taking a shower when she got back, to wash away the smell of rotting flesh. The girls reached the side entrance, and AJ opened the door.

"Okay, now let's see if I can lock this thing back up," AJ said as she walked outside. As Tara watched her leave, a sudden sense of panic rushed over her. Tara didn't know why though, as everything seemed alright. The streets were quiet, there were no guards, and they were surrounded by plenty tall buildings, enclosing them from any threats.

But perhaps, Tara realized, that was the problem. Everything was _too_ quiet; so much so that it felt like the area had been abandoned. The tall buildings didn't give Tara any sort of safe feeling either. For example, the ten-story building directly across from the side entrance. In its many floors, most of the lights were turned on, meaning that plenty of people were around if something were to happen. But Tara had the horrible sense the people were actually watching them, staring out there windows to watch the next horrible atrocities occur. Tara wondered why some of the lights were so bright, while others so dim. It seemed trivial, but it didn't feel trivial. In fact, it made Tara fell even more uneasy. In fact, one light stood out to her. It was a small flash, and only briefly appeared when glimpsed at from the right angle. But Tara spotted it with her peripheral vision, and now found herself trying to focus on it. What was it? Tara didn't know, but it looked like it was meant to be seen from the exact point Tara was standing. In fact, it looked as it was intentionally trying to be seen.

Then Tara realized what that light was. With no hesitation, Tara grabbed onto AJ's shirt, and pulled her back inside of the morgue. AJ started to protest, until a loud bang cracked through the air, and a bullet struck where AJ formerly was standing. Tara shut the door as fast as she could, and then backed away from it.

"Holy shit!" AJ said in panic. "Ya just saved my life, girl!"

"What the hell was that?" Rachel asked, following Tara's example and backing away from the door.

"I-I, um," Tara said fearfully. "I think the Living Nightmare is trying to kill us."

**To Be Continued…**


	9. Chapter 5: The Living Nightmare (2)

**********Note: If anything in the following story is worth noting, positive or negative, good or bad, leave a comment about via review. If every person who read this sentence left a review, the impact would be incredible. We at GodSaveTheKings greatly appreciate feedback, as it substantially helps with the writing process. So please, make your voice heard.**

* * *

**Chapter 5: The Living Nightmare**

**Part 2 of 2: The Miscreant Rises**

Dash popped another shrimp into her mouth. She admitted to be very thankful that Tiny and Brutus were accompanying her on this guard job. She figured that the chances of being sexually assaulted were drastically reduced, since she was no longer left alone with McCarther. Unless, of course, Tiny and Brutus also wanted to assault her, in which case, Dash essentially thought she would be screwed. She still had no idea where she was headed, but McCarther seemed to grow more ecstatic by the minute. Dash look out the windows, and noticed that they were heading downtown. The hour was approaching midnight, which made Dash a little concerned. She may not have known much about city life, but something had always told her never to go downtown to a crime-ridden area late at night.

"So, _why_ are we headed downtown?" Dash asked, voicing her concern.

"You'll see," McCarther said happily. Dash rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She looked over at Tiny and Brutus.

"Hey, how you dick-munchers doing?" Dash called out.

Neither of them responded.

"Really, nothing?" Dash asked. "You aint going to say anything?"

Once again, there was no response. It was starting to become clear to Dash that neither of them were to dare say anything in front of McCarther, except for the most basic responses, perhaps, just perhaps, not wanting to lose their jobs.

"Why not?" Dash wondered aloud. "I understand it's hard to talk with so much jizz in your mouth, Tiny. Just be a man and fucking swallow already. Christ." Still, despite teases and insults to both mens' pride, neither said a word. It was actually starting to annoy Dash. Half of the fun of insulting someone was watching them react. But the two guards remained emotionless, ruining Dash's mood.

"WE'RE HERE!" McCarther suddenly shouted. The limo pulled to the side of the street and parked. McCarther could barely contain his joy. The door opened, and McCarther practically bolted out of his vehicle. Dash casually followed suit, and looked around. From what she could gather, she was in a very rundown section of Philadelphia. Most buildings around her were in shambles; their roofs broken, their walls graffitied, and the windows cracked. However, the building she was standing in front of was shining bright in the night. The building was in fine condition, as many lights covered it, trying to attract as much attention as possible. A bouncer waited outside the door, underneath a large sign that said,

_Ultimate Palace, Gentlemen's Club_

_Are you fucking kidding me?_ Dash thought to herself, as McCarther bounded towards the entrance. _I ruined my night to guard an old horny bastard on his way to a strip joint?_

Dash saw Tiny motion her forwards. Dash reluctantly sighed, and followed McCarther and the guards into the building.

Across the street, between two broken down houses, a man watched the limousine's passengers enter the strip club, while his three friends enjoyed smoking marijuana behind him.

"Damn, this shit's great," one of the men said. "How much this cost you?"

"About 70 bucks," one of the other men responded. "Cost me some motha fucking dough to get."

"Shit, you shoulda argued with the seller, dog," said the third man. "You gotta learn to handle this shit, bro." The second man, annoyed, looked back the first man.

"Yo nigga, why we even hanging out with this pasty mothafucka?" the man asked.

"Jordan here apparently has the best driving skills this side of town," the first man explained, putting the drugs back to his mouth.

"Doesn't mean the nigga can't show no respect now, 'ight?" the second man asked.

"Dude, calm yourself," Jordan said slowly. "Just let the fuckin buzz take your ass over."

"Man, you got to watch your mouth," the second man said. "Stop with all the mothafuckin language."

"I said calm down, Jerome," Jordan spoke again. "Niggas got to be cool."

"I told you before, I don't get high easy," Jerome said. In disbelief, he asked, "And _what_ did you just say to me?"

As his two friends argued, Anwar turned to his other friend, who was still staring at the strip club.

"Yo, Benny," Anwar called out. "You want some of this shit?"

Benny sighed and turned to his other friends.

"I fucking told you already," Benny said angrily. "Stop. Getting. High. On. The. Job. We got a huge motherfuckin hit just waiting to happen." Anwar stood up, and looked around Benny to see the limousine parked nearby.

"You want to attack the nigga that owns that?" Anwar asked in disbelief. "Don't you know the fucking rules, dog? We try taking too much money, and the Smiling Dragons will be all over our ass."

"Haven't you heard?" Benny said. "Word is that Discord's been taken down. Huge police operation. You know my cousin, Jimmy?"

"Yeah, I know that little nigga," Anwar said. "He's in Discord's crew, right?"

"Yeah, that's the point, man," Benny said. "He said he hasn't heard from Discord in two weeks. And you already know about that sting back on the fourth of October."

"Oh, shit," Anwar said, understanding Benny's point. "So, it's just us two bit thugs now, aint it?"

"Fuck yeah," Benny said. "Now, it's time for _us_ to rise to the top. And to start it off, let's break that elderly mothafucka's legs and see what he's got on 'im."

As the plan of the four gangsters came to fruition, across the street, Dash found herself in the one place she'd never imagined to be: guarding an old business man in a strip club. Dash had a very hard time adjusting to the dim lighting. Everything was cast in a purple glow, in order to, she supposed, enhance the mood. To her right, Dash saw a brightly lit bar, where a topless woman was handing out cold beers to already drunken men. To the left, Dash saw two stripper poles, one of which was occupied by some blonde woman, that _might_ have looked attractive in the proper lighting. In fact, all of the women that Dash saw around her could have been moderately pretty, if they hadn't ruined their lives and bodies with extreme sex and drugs.

McCarther suddenly yelled with glee, and ran over to one of the strippers, who had her arms open, waiting for him. She was a short Asian woman, wearing a more degrading form of a nurse's outfit. She too, under comparison with most other girls in the locale, was somewhat pretty, although Dash could clearly see the scars on her stomach from whatever surgeries she had had in the past. McCarther and the woman waltzed back to the guards.

"Hey toots," McCarther said, making Dash feel ill inside. "This is Lucy Mai. She's my favorite girl in the whole world."

"Hello," Lucy Mai said. It was quite clear to Dash that Lucy didn't speak much English in her spare time.

"Me and Lucy are going to… _relax_ here for a while; catch up on some things. You stay put out here with Tiny and Brutus. I don't care _what_ you do. Watch the show, relax a little. Bye now!" McCarther and Lucy Mai walked away into a private room, where another bouncer guarded the door. Tiny and Brutus shrugged and walked over to a table, taking a seat. Dash honestly didn't know what to do. She never thought she was going to be left alone in a strip club before.

Suddenly, she saw a woman walking up to her. The woman was black, dressed in red lingerie, which was meant to show off her breast implants.

"Hey, baby," the stripper called out to Dash. Dash looked puzzled as the woman stood next to her, hands on her hips. "Is there anything I can do for you, girl?"

"Um… _no_?" Dash said confused.

"Don't worry, darling," the stripper said. "I don't mind that you're a girl. I can do anything for the right price." Dash smirked.

"You know," Dash started to say, trying to get the woman as far away from her as possible. "I don't know why, but something tells me that you clearly don't hump the air as well as you hump every other guy in town. That must be what your manager thinks too, since you don't make _nearly_ enough money to fully support your five incest-bred kids and pump up your tits with enough silicon to stuff the stomach of an elephant, so as to distract everyone from realizing what a failure you are as both a mother and a human being. It's either that, or the fact that your face looks like someone beat a labia up with a baseball bat, and then charred the remains. So, why don't you take your plastic filled body, your saggy ass, and your idiotic complex, and go back to fucking that big metal pole to satisfy the empty feeling inside knowing that you will never rise out of the trash-filled whorehouse, that is, in fact, your pathetic fucking _life?_"

The woman gasped. At first, she was rather angry, but after a few moments, the stripper slowly started to cry. She covered her face with he hands, and then ran to a private backroom. Several other strippers who saw the event followed her, as Dash leaned back against the nearby wall and laughed to herself.

_Oh, strippers,_ Dash thought to herself. _What is there not to make fun of? I think I might be able to make this trip enjoyable, after all._

* * *

Melanie Moon missed.

Melanie Moon, the greatest assassin in the world, missed a target.

Melanie Moon, the Living Nightmare, the woman who had terrified nations, who had executed over 150 targets, who was the most accurate sniper in the world, had fired at a target, and _missed_.

Moon trembled, uncontrollably. It was something that she had never experienced before. She lied down at her vantage point on the roof. Her custom weapon was pointed at the side entrance of the morgue across the street. Moon didn't move; she was too stunned to do anything. She prided herself on her unnatural efficiency to kill. Her accuracy was unmatched. The only reason she was called onto work for The Unknown was for the chance to execute anyone who stood in the way. And yet, when it came down to do her job, she had failed.

Moon gritted her teeth together. She told herself to stay calm. The targets would be eliminated. All she had to do was focus. Moon steadied herself, and looked back through the scope of her gun. The gray door to the morgue remained shut. Moon waited. Sure enough, the door slowly started to creak open. The halls were dark, and Moon couldn't see more than a meter past the door from her current vantage point. She continued to wait.

Then, as Moon expected, something briefly moved from behind the door. She couldn't see many details, but she it knew that it was flesh, and that was enough for her.

The flesh had barely been out of cover for half of a second, before a shot ripped through the air, tearing through the piece of meat, causing it to fly apart.

"Shit!" AJ yelled, shutting the door again.

Back inside the morgue, most of the girls were huddled deep inside the halls. AJ had positioned herself behind the door. She was attempting to see if Moon was still present by holding the piece of Hammonick's skull out of cover. Unfortunately, now the girls found themselves facing two unpleasant truths. Not only did they no longer have any evidence tying to the killer, but the same killer was waiting to execute them, and whoever it was, they were very fast with being able to do it.

"Tara, ya gotta plan, right?" AJ asked, hopefully. Tara shook her head.

"Not really," Tara said somberly. "If we open that door, Moon will shoot us down. We need to get to the van; we'll never make it far on foot."

"Tara, why are you certain that Moon is shooting at us?" Rachel asked. "We don't know who it is, yet. Remember?"

"I would like to think that," Tara said. "But… I don't know…"

"Well, duh," Pinky suddenly interjected. "Of _course_ it's Moon."

"How do you know?" Rachel asked. Pinky pointed to the ground.

"The bullet she fired is right there, isn't it?" Pinky stated. With realization, the girls looked to where Pinky was pointing, as AJ shined her flashlight upon the spot. Sure enough, the impact from the bullet had embedded itself into the ground, leaving behind the image of a raven's skeleton.

"I…I completely forgot about that," Tara said feeling rather foolish. "AJ, can you get any DNA from that?" AJ sighed.

"Not unless I can move the floor and take it back to Camelot," AJ said. "But at least we have multiple witnesses of the image. Now, all we got to do is report our findings."

"That's the problem," Tara said. "We can't leave the building."

"Um…" said Fiona, shyly. "Couldn't we just call the cops? That would probably scare Moon away."

Tara grimaced.

"That's what bugs me," Tara said. "There should have already been police activity here, or at _least_ some basic security. But this place was abandoned. It's almost as if the police were supposed to leave this place as we arrived."

"You think it's a setup?" AJ asked.

"I don't know," Tara admitted. "Maybe. I'm not really focusing on that now, though. We need to figure out how to get out of here."

Tara leaned against the wall, and thought. She thought hard for a few minutes, trying to imagine that she was in Moon's position. Being perched atop that building, Moon's angle of fire was probably very high, meaning she couldn't see far into the building. She also knew that Moon would have no easy way to get down from the building, if the girls were to escape. Camelot itself was not a far drive. So, all they would have to do is lose her for a few seconds, and they could slip back to Camelot, unharmed. But then again, Moon could always snipe the driver mid-drive. Unless, of course, she couldn't properly aim at the vehicle.

Or, she didn't have enough ammo. Then, suddenly, Tara realized what she could do.

"AJ," Tara said, gaining hope. "You said Melanie Moon has never missed a shot in her life, right?" AJ shrugged.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well," Tara said. "Do you think you can get her to misfire three more times?"

"Probably," AJ said. "Maybe. What for?"

"It just occurred to me," Tara explained. "If Moon's never missed a shot in her life, then why would she ever bother bringing around extra ammo to her assignments?" AJ opened her mouth to answer, but then realized that she couldn't, as Tara's plan was finally getting through to her. AJ smiled.

"Rachel," AJ said. "Go back to Hammonick's body, and get me that bag of skull pieces. We're getting' out of here."

As Tara's plan came to life, back outside, Moon continued to wait patiently. She had sufficiently managed to halt her trembling, and her aim was , once again, as sturdy as ever. She had missed the last two shots, but she would miss no further. She kept her sights locked on the side entrance. She was prepared for any other decoys, and she made sure no to fire until the target was fully identified.

At least, this was her initial thought process, until she saw something with her peripheral vision. From the main entrance of the morgue, something was _clearly_ trying to get out. The door opened, and Moon turned her gun to face the other entrance. A piece of Hammonick's skull flew out of the door.

Moon didn't fire. She smirked at the futile attempt to fool her. But then, more movement back at the side entrance, and in an involuntary motion, Moon pulled the trigger, taking out another piece of human flesh. Moon cursed at herself. She had missed _three_ times in less than _ten_ minutes. Moon attributed it to her long period of jail time, but it was still no excuse for her.

Suddenly, as Moon felt nothing but humiliation, she realized a much simpler way to achieve her goal. Moon turned her sights on the lone van in the morgue parking lot, and shot out one of the tires. It deflated with a satisfactory hiss, and Moon once again had the upper hand.

Before she realized that she was practically out of ammo.

Moon only had one round left to fire. Even if all of the girls decided to come running out at the same time, she could only take out three at the most, and only if the all ran close enough together. It was quite the predicament for her to find herself in. Moon growled at herself for letting her pride get in the way of practicality. Why did she have to only bring five shots? She asked herself this many times in her head. This was her chance to prove that she was still the best assassin in the world, and currently, she was being an insurmountable failure.

Meanwhile, back inside the morgue, Tara suddenly heard the extra shot being fired. Tara didn't understand why. There weren't any other targets aside from the pieces of Hammonick's skull that were being tossed out the door (which, as a side note, Tara was pretty sure she was going to Hell for suggesting.)

"Fiona, go get Pinky," Tara instructed. Fiona nodded and ran to the main entrance, where Rachel and Pinky were currently waiting. "AJ, do you know what she's shooting at?" Tara asked. AJ shook her head.

"No idea," AJ admitted. "Still, at least it wastes another bullet for her. I sure hope your theory is right, Tara."

"So do I," Tara said honestly. "In any case, she'd at least have to reload at some point. Do you by any chance remember how many shots her gun held at a time?"

"Nope," AJ said. "I read the specs to that thing when I was 12. Don't remember much except what it could do to people." At this time, Pinky came merrily skipping down the hall, Fiona and Rachel in tow. "Oh, good. You gals are alright."

"Except being scared for our lives," Rachel spoke. "How many shots does she have left?"

"Just one," Tara said. "At least, we think so. We heard her fire at something outside. We don't exactly know the situation."

"Well, hasn't one of you checked or something?" Rachel asked.

"Hey," AJ interjected. "Y'all wanna get shot in the face? Fine with me."

Suddenly, Fiona pushed her way to the door.

"I'll do it," Fiona said. Fiona attempted to push AJ away from the door, although she did not have nearly enough strength to move the experienced soldier.

"What the hell do ya think you're doing?" AJ asked. "I wasn't actually being _serious_ about that." Fiona stubbornly continued to push AJ, despite the southern girl not moving an inch.

"I'll look through the crack between the hinges and the frame," Fiona explained. "People have had a tendency to ignore me. I'll take a brief look, and then close the door again. She'll never notice me."

"And if she does?" Tara asked, concern growing. Fiona remained motionless for a moment, contemplating what to say, before answering in a hushed, somber voice.

"Then you'd have your chance to escape," Fiona said softly.

"Fiona, if you're trying to prove some stupid heroism or something," Tara said harshly. "Then just _stop_. Getting yourself killed won't help any of us."

"I'll be fine," Fiona said. "Hopefully."

Fiona had no idea what was rushing over her. She would have liked to think it as some brave feat that she was trying to accomplish, but it wasn't that. She would have liked to think that she had valiantly chosen to sacrifice herself for the good of the team, but it wasn't that either. It was simply that she just had a terrible feeling that if she didn't check outside, then something truly awful would happen. Perhaps it wasn't the most logical choice, but none of the other girls had a plan except waiting for their time to die.

Fiona took a deep breath to steady herself, then motioned the others deeper down the hall. She slowly opened the door, remaining hidden behind it. Then, as cautiously and stealthily as she could, Fiona lowered her head, and looked through the empty space in the door. She scanned around the environment, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Fiona, at least for the moment, still had her skull intact, but she didn't know how long it would last. Fiona's eyes landed upon the car, and Fiona focused in on the vehicle.

"Oh no," Fiona said quietly.

"What?" Tara asked, taking a step forward.

"I think she shot out one of our tires," Fiona said. "That must have been what that shot wa-"

Fiona froze. For just a second, her vision had scanned upwards, and Fiona's mouth hung open as she watched the bizarre event. Tara took another step forward, noticing the fear in Fiona's expression.

"What?" Tara said. "What is it now?" Fiona gulped.

"Um, unless I'm mistaken…" Fiona explained. "That's a woman jumping off the top of that ten-story building."

Tara quickly ran to Fiona's side, kneeling beside her, and peered out the window. From afar, she could see a black figure falling down the side of the building. The building was only 50 meters away, so Tara was easily able to adjust her vision to see the figure more closely. It was clearly a woman, long black hair floating above her as she dove gracefully to the ground. The woman was not wearing much; a closed black vest, with a black T-shirt underneath, black jeans, and surprisingly, equally shaded high heels. Two clawed gloves were on her hands. Her ghost white skin shone in the moonlight, except on her right arm, which was covered with red markings. If Tara was thinking rationally, then she perhaps would have thought that the woman had simply thrown on a random mesh of clothing for the night. But Tara wasn't thinking rationally, as she watched the woman free-fall.

It seemed a moment that Moon would simply splat upon the ground, but luck would not be on Tara side. Moon fell relatively close to the building, so much so that extending her arm would cause her to collide with the exterior. Yet, that was exactly what Moon did. Moon rotated herself in mid-air, so that she was facing the structure. With two clawed gloves, she dug her fingers into the building. Tara didn't know what the claws were made out of, but she knew they must have been extremely resilient, as they carved through the steel with relative ease. As Moon's descent slowed, she dug her heels into the building as well, slowing her fall further. By the time she was ten feet off the ground, Moon had practically halted completely. She checked her distance to the ground, and then jumped away from the building, landing with both feet on the ground. Moon reached into her back pocket, and then pulled out a small pistol.

Then, she ran at the morgue in a full sprint. Tara quickly shut the door, and she and Fiona backed away a quickly as possible.

"RUN!" Tara ordered, bolting down the hallway. Fiona dashed after her. AJ didn't know what the girls were panicking about, but she saw the fear in their eyes as they ran away. AJ took off after the others, as Rachel and Pinky followed close behind. Taking sharp turns around the corners, Tara quickly arrived at the front entrance, and held the door open as the others came running behind her. They ran past Tara, and onto the dark streets. In the distance, Tara could see Moon sprinting after them, slowly gaining ground. Moon raised her gun, and fired at the girls. However, the accuracy of the weapon was not to her standard, and the bullets dropped before they got near the girls.

"Tara! What's the plan?!" AJ yelled as Moon got closer.

"Don't you have any weapon on you?!" Tara shouted.

"No!" AJ yelled back. "Fuck, she's getting _closer_!" The girls rounded a street corner. Tara looked around, trying to find any refuge from their troubles.

_Damn it,_ Tara thought. _If only we had our weapons. Or an escape vehicle. Or anything._

An alley appeared on Tara's left. Without hesitation, Tara ran into it. The others followed, not wanting to be separated from the group. The alley took a right turn, but as Tara turned the corner, she froze. The alley led to a dead end. All that was present around the bend was a fire escape, and two dumpsters. The others turned the corner, and realized that they had trapped themselves.

"What do we do now?" asked Fiona, who heard Moon close behind.

"Quick," Tara ordered. "Get in the dumpsters, and stay quiet. If she comes, we'll see if we can launch a surprise attack." Without any other options, the girls opened up the dumpsters, and climbed inside. Pinky hopped into one, not bothering to check whether it was empty or not. AJ jumped in after her, feeling very fortunate that the containers happened to be empty. Tara and Fiona entered the other dumpster. However, Rachel paused, covering her nose.

"Oh, great," Rachel muttered. "No way in hell I'm going to lower myself to-Whoa!"

AJ suddenly grabbed onto Rachel's shirt, and threw her into the dumpster with Pinky and herself. The lids to the dumpsters slammed shut, mere seconds before Moon entered the alleyway.

"I'm sure they came through here," Moon muttered to herself. She quickly moved to the corner wall, peering out to see if the girls were there. Once she noted that it was a dead end, Moon put away her gun.

"Where are you?" Moon wondered aloud. She reached into her vest, and pulled out a butterfly knife. "I know you have to be here somewhere. I can smell you."

Moon swung around her knife, revealing the long, sharp blade within. From within the dumpster, Tara was giving hand signals to Fiona. The message she was attempting to get across was to lunge at Moon the moment she opened the lid. But, she wasn't exactly sure if Fiona understood what the signals meant, or if she could even see them at all within the darkness.

"You know, beating Discord wasn't much of an accomplishment," Moon said, knowing that the girls had to be within earshot. "I mean, he wasn't a _true_ killer. Just some nutcase with a love for explosives. I have been trained to be the ultimate killing machine since I was seven. It was my _birthright_. Honestly, do you think you can hide from me? I know you're right here, and…" Moon said, stopping in front of the dumpsters. "There _really_ aren't that many places to hide."

Moon smiled as she placed her hand on the lid of Tara's dumpster.

"You bitches have given us so much trouble over the past month," Moon said with disdain. "But now, it's over. Tell me, have any of you ever felt the satisfaction of a blade running against your skin?"

Moon ran her fingers over the scarred right arm, feeling each individual mark with great satisfaction.

"The feeling of cold steel penetrating your warm body. The feeling of blood pouring from your wounds. It's _exhilarating_! Now, you get to experience such a _wonderful_ sensation! The most pure feeling of bliss that this world has ever known." Moon placed both hands on the lid, taking her time, letting each tense moment drag itself out.

"Thank you, ladies," Moon said with sadistic glee. Through a crack in the lid, Tara could see Moon's icy blue eyes, staring at the dumpster with an intense hunger. "Thanks to you, I finally have a reason to cut again."

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. _

"What the hell?" Moon muttered to herself, taking her hands off of the dumpster. She reached into her front pocket of her pants, and pulled out a cellphone.

"Yes?" Moon said, clearly annoyed. "Yes sir, I'm about to do it now. Wait… what? What do you mean? I… yes… yes… but sir, I… what do you mean, 'It's not important'?! Don't you remember why you hired me? I… I… uh… fine, sir. Whatever you say." Moon moaned in great disappointment, as she hung up the phone and put it away.

_Of all the fucking times_, Moon thought to herself in anger.

"Looks like luck is on your side tonight," Moon said towards the dumpsters. "My execution order's been delayed. I'm supposed to keep you alive now. You can come out if you want."

Not one of the girls dared so much as breathe.

"Fine then," Moon said. "My job is done for tonight. Something about, 'new plans emerging'. You should consider yourselves fortunate to survive such an ordeal. Of course, the hunt isn't over. It has simply been put on hold. In the meantime, enjoy this little token of respect."

Moon took her butterfly knife and threw it to the ground. The blade wedged itself into the earth, as Moon started to walk away.

"That should give you more than enough evidence of my existence. Give it to your pathetic superiors. I want them to know that I'm back. I want _everyone_ to know. I only wish I could tell them myself. But I must make my leave at this time. So, for now, _Auf Wiedersehen_, my darlings!"

Moon walked away with a strut in her step, although the girls didn't move for several minutes. Finally, Tara rose out of the dumpster, checking to see if Moon had really left. Once the area was clear, Tara called for the others to exit the dumpsters as well. Slowly, the others got up, with the exception of Rachel, who jumped out of the dumpster almost immediately.

"Well, that was something," AJ said. She was in shock. The Living Nightmare, the most feared assassin on the planet, had just let them live to see another day. It was something unheard of, something so mind-boggling fantastic that AJ would have never even dreamed of it.

"You can say that again," Tara said, taking a close look at the knife embedded in the ground. "We better take this with us. Guess we better tell Wilson what we saw."

"Ooh, can I tell the story?" Pinky begged.

"No," Tara said sternly. "Something tells me that this knife will tell the story better than we ever could."

* * *

_What is so appealing about a thong?_ Dash thought to herself. She had been in the strip club for well over an hour, and she was starting to get tired of seeing scantily clad women appeasing the sexual fantasies of men. It was wearing on her patience, and, more importantly, her sanity. This led Dash to think of things she otherwise would never be thinking of, which is how the thoughts about thongs got into her mind.

_I mean, if so many bitches are going to wear them,_ Dash thought. _Then they'd have to be comfortable, right? No one would buy something that rides up on you. Unless… that's the point. To be so uncomfortable that you become comfortable. Like reverse psychology. You think it should be uncomfortable, but then it isn't as bad as you think. So then, it feels comfortable by comparison. Wait… why the fuck am I thinking about this?_

Dash's train of thought was interrupted when she saw McCarther walk out of the private room, chatting to Lucy Mai. For what would count as the first time Dash was actually happy to see the man, Dash got up from her seat and walked over to McCarther. On her way, she passed a stripper trying to seduce some men.

"(cough) You're mother doesn't love you. (cough)," Dash spoke out. She wasn't sure if the woman heard it or not, as the stripper continued to entertain the men without hesitation.

"So I said, 'Hey, watch the tomato soup!' And then… Oh, hello there," McCarther's story was broken up as Dash approached.

"Ya ready to go, boss?" Dash asked in a rather desperate tone.

"Not quite," McCarther said. Dash's mood sank yet again. "However, I do feel as if I need a smoke. Toots, you will accompany an old gentleman outside, won't you?"

_Great,_ thought Dash. _This is the part where I get molested._

"Fine, boss," Dash moaned out. She followed McCarther to the entrance, and walked outside into the crisp November night. McCarther took out a cigar and a lighter, as Dash occupied herself by observing the neighborhood. She didn't feel any safer, seeing that the streets were probably ridden with crime. It also didn't help that the bouncer was no longer by the door, having to shoo away an overzealous customer.

"So, Miss Dawson," McCarther said, biting on his cigar. "Do you want to change the world?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Dash asked. She didn't really care about what McCarther had to say, so long as she was doing her job.

"Look, I'm not the senile, old bastard you think I am," McCarther said, rather serious. "You don't get this far in life without being able to understand people."

"Wait… what?" Dash said confused.

"You heard me," McCarther said. "I know you think I'm a crazy old fuck. Almost everyone does. But here's the thing: I like you, kid. You see things differently from the rest."

"Are you implying something?" Dash asked.

"Look, you hate the world, kid. Anyone can see that. So do I," McCarther explained. "This world is ruled by little pinheaded motherfuckers who only care about themselves. Ole' George-y was one of the biggest schmucks in the universe. This whole little system we have here… partying away as others suffer… it's just bullshit."

"You can say that again," Dash said. "People are _cunts_."

"Yes, yes they are," McCarther agreed. "Look, what I really want to do with my life is-"

"Yo, mothafucka!" A voice called out. Two gang members approached Dash and McCarther on either side, each of them armed with a small blade.

"Hey, fool, give us your cash," Jordan called out.

"Yeah, just hand the motherfucking money over," said Benny. "No one's gotta get hurt." McCarther looked around nervously. However, Dash remained calm, looking at the four men surrounding her.

"What do you punk-ass motherfuckers intend to do if we don't?" Dash smirked.

"Yo, do you _want_ that old nigga to get cut?" Jerome asked. "Just leave your psycho bitch-ass outta here."

"Nah, I think this bitch wants it, bro," Anwar said, thrusting in the air. "She don't just want to get cut. This bitch wants some pleasure from tonight."

"If you're implying what I think you're implying," Dash said. "Then I have to inform you that you are wrong. Honestly, I'm pretty sure this old bastard would provide a better time than you."

Jordan started to laugh.

"Oh, shit!" Jordan laughed out. "That's a burn, mothafu-"

"Hey, shut your ass, nigga!" Jerome yelled out. He started advancing towards Dash, menacingly. "I'm just gonna fuck this bitch up. No more foreplay in this mothafucka. We goin' to be slicing tonight."

"Come and get, you piece of shit," Dash smiled. She had her back turned to Jerome as he charged at her, his blade extended. But just before he could get in range, Dash's beloved white sneaker had already connected to his face. The gun spiraled out of his hand, as Jerome collapsed to the ground, unconscious. In shock, the other gang members froze, as Dash took up a fighting stance.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she taunted with a grin. "Get your asses over here!"

The other men charged instantly. Jordan reached Dash first. He tried to stab her, but she easily dodged, stripping the knife from his hand and pushing him to the ground. Anwar ran up to her from behind, but before he could strike, Dash quickly turned round, and slashed the knife against his cheek. Anwar cursed and stumbled backwards, clutching his face. Benny came in next and attempted to swing his knife at Dash, but she dodged three of his strikes. On the fourth attempt, Dash ducked underneath his blade, and dug her knife deep into Benny's chest, killing him before his body ever hit the ground. Anwar and Jordan panicked.

"Fuck!" Anwar shouted. "She killed Benny!"

"Fuck this shit!" Jordan said. "This score aint worth it no more." Jordan ran away, as Anwar picked up Jerome's body, carrying his unconscious friend back across the street. Dash spit on Benny's corpse, as McCarther regained his composure.

"Kid, you've got quite some talent," McCarther said. "Look, I am planning to gain a large amount of influence over WMH Enterprises, even more than I currently have. We're going to revolutionize the world. No more American bullshit. We are going to give power back to the people. And I want you to be a part of that future."

"Really?" Dash said in surprise. McCarther nodded.

"Yeah," he said, going back to smoking his cigar. "I'd like to offer you a private business proposition that will benefit all of the things you believe in. If you want to accept, then I want you to meet us at this address tomorrow, at 10 PM." McCarther reached into his suit and pulled out a slip of paper, which he handed to Dash. "You know, I think you've done enough for tonight. Go back to Wilson for tonight, even though I know you don't really want to work for that bastard."

"So…" Dash aid, trying to understand what McCarther was proposing. "Let me get this straight. You're offering me a job which, if I am to understand correctly, involves fighting against the fucked up sociological bullshit of America. Not only that, but I get to stop taking orders from Wilson, which means I no longer have to do bullshit for the government. Right?"

McCarther shrugged.

"Pretty much."

"That… that actually doesn't sound too bad," Dash admitted. She still didn't like McCarther, but if what he was offering was in fact true, than Dash was practically being offered the ultimate rebellious dish on a golden platter. "I'll… _consider_ it." McCarther smirked.

"Good, I thought you would," McCarther said happily. "Run along, now. See you tomorrow. Hopefully." Dash tucked the slip of paper into her suit pocket, and then entered the limousine. McCarther walked up to the driver's seat, and instructed the driver to take Dash back to WMH Enterprises headquarters. As the limousine pulled away, Dash started to think about what had been offered in the past few minutes.

And as she did that, McCarther took out his cellphone, and made a very important call.

* * *

As Dash entered Camelot, she couldn't help but notice the surprising amount of people wandering about. Usually, other military people just stayed in the shadows, working behind the scenes. But as Dash walked back to the sleeping quarters, she counted at least ten people run by her, checking over notes or talking to each other. Dash took a deep sigh, and stepped through the door to the sleeping quarters, plopping herself down on her bunk and closing her eyes. Dash suddenly noticed the presence of other people beside her. Dash opened her eyes to see her tired and distressed teammates sitting on their bunks, staring at Dash.

"What are your panties in a bunch for?" Dash sneered as she rolled over, turning her backs to the girls.

"Do you have any idea of what we've been through?" Tara asked, somewhat annoyed by Dash's exhausted complexion.

"Do you have any idea what I was doing?" Dash retorted, keeping her back to the girls. "Crazy shit happened tonight."

"What could have _possibly_ been so horrible as to worry you?" Rachel asked from above, mildly curious.

"Well, let's see," Dash said, recalling the events of the night. "I was asked to strip naked in front of an old dude, then I was taken to a strip club. I was hit on by a bunch of unattractive whores, and then, some gangbangers tried to rape me. I kicked their asses, then came back here. Pretty shitty night."

"That's all?" Tara asked. "_That's_ what was so crazy?!"

"Oh, I forgot," Dash quickly remembered. "I also rode a motorcycle. Pretty kick-ass. Am I right?" Tara glared at Dash, who was acting which such depravity that it seemed like she had been in the worst catastrophe in history.

"Well," Tara spoke with annoyance. "We nearly got killed by the Living Nightmare." Dash, surprised by the news, turned back over with a smug grin.

"Well, aint that charming," Dash said.

"It's not funny, Dash," AJ interrupted from above. "We almost got killed."

"Yeah, but you nearly get killed _every_ night," Dash reasoned. AJ groaned.

"Look, Dash," Fiona said. "It was awful. She was _terrifying_. Just to be in her presence felt like being near a ghost. We barely escaped with our lives."

"Boohoo," Dash said. "Stop whining. I've had a shitty day, too, you know. All the fucked up shit I had to deal with. Man, those strippers…" Dash was caught off, as Tara snapped towards her, leaning off of the bunk.

"Are you kidding me?" Tara nearly yelled. "We nearly get massacred, and all you do is whine about the joy ride of a day you've been having. We were going to _die_. That isn't something to shrug off or laugh. And yet, you think it's okay to whine about perverts and strippers?! Stop acting like you're the center of the universe, and actually show that you care for once!"

"Hey," Dash spat out, her words quick. "Don't try to put words in my mouth. I'm sorry such an incident happened to you, Spark. Moon has _really_ got to work on her aim." Tara nearly lunged off her bunk, but Fiona interrupted her.

"Look," Fiona said, trying to remove the tension in the room. She remembered the last time that the girls fought. She especially remembered what Tara's face had looked like after the incident. Even now, the marks on Tara's face hadn't completely gone away, and the last thing Fiona needed was for both girls to go at each other again. "Let's just calm down here. Look, Dash, I'm sure you've had a bad time tonight. But, Tara's just a little annoyed that you don't seem to be caring about any of the struggles we had to put up with either. It's nothing wrong with you… it's just-"

"You don't think I care," Dash finished Fiona's words, sitting up from her bunk. "Well, you know what? I really don't. Why should I? Clearly, you don't trust me!"

"What are you talking about?" Tara asked, getting offended. Dash rolled her eyes.

"You never care about me at _all_," Dash complained. "You expect me to care about your problems when you lack the decency to care about _mine_."

"Rebecca, we have _no _idea what you're rambling about," Tara said. "If you would open up to us more, and maybe care enough to _trust_ us with this, then maybe-"

"No more 'maybe'! No more of this pseudo-'we care' bullshit! You all are just a bunch of hypocritical _bitches_, you know that?" Dash spat out with hate. All attention was drawn to her. Even Pinky, who had preferred to stay out of the fight, was now equally shocked and hurt as the rest of the girls. As Dash spoke, each sentence slowly increased in the amount of hatred and anger put into it. "You yell at me about not caring, but when have you ever cared about _my_ shit? Don't think I don't know what people think of me. I know what you cocksuckers have said about me when you thought I wasn't listening. You _assholes_. I mean, why should I care about you, when you don't even trust me enough to rescue AJ from Discord? Or when you force me to do shit I can't stand, like circling a town at midnight, or working for a giant asshole all day who wants to finger me like a fucking eight-year old? Or, maybe, not give a shit about my opinion, like, _ever_! All of you fucking fuckers complain that I don't care? Go fuck yourselves! All you are just a bunch of motherfucking, needy, evil, attention-loving, bullshit-spewing _pricks_! Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to sleep in the training room, cause that's clearly the only place you selfish whores would want me!"

Dash stood up from the bunk, and walked to the door. Without turning back, she held up her middle finger to the girls, and then stormed out of the room. The door was slammed shut, as the girls stared in amazement at Dash's fantastic display of rage.

* * *

**November 3****rd****, 2015**

It was five minutes to ten o'clock as Dash sped down the road on her bike. She felt no regrets about the decision she was making. All that needed to be said was already said last night. Dash knew that whatever her future could have held, she had no desire to turn back. Perhaps, if she cared a little more, she would have chosen differently, or at the very least, felt sad about what she was leaving behind. However, Dash figured that the less time she ever had to think of those people again, the better she would feel.

The rainbow-haired girl soon arrived at her destination: 3 Park Lane. Dash pulled up to a three-story tall stone building. Its exterior was cracked, appearing very worn-down, and she was sure that it was certainly near life-threatening to enter it. But Dash paid little mind to her own safety as she got off of her bike and walked to the building, focusing only on the task at hand.

From what she had gathered, the building used to be some kind of orphanage back in the 50's. But now, it was simply a forgotten piece of time, abandoned and left to rot in downtown Philadelphia. The building itself was rather wide, wide enough that it seemed to be able to accommodate one hundred children on a single floor. The only entrance was a set of old, wooden doors. On the ground before it was a sign that had long since fallen from its perch, leaving the building empty and nameless. Dash cautiously slid the door open, noticing the loud creaking noise emerging from the wood. Dash entered into a room that used to be some sort of reception room. Across from her, a wooden desk had fallen to its side, and Dash could see dusty chairs lined against the wall.

"Hey, anyone here?!" Dash called out into the darkness, noticing the echoes tracing down the shallow halls.

"Over here, kiddo!" a voice called out from the darkness. With all of the echoing, it would have been near impossible for Dash to locate the source. However, as Dash took a flashlight out of her pocket, she noticed a piece of paper attached to the wall. It had an arrow hastily drawn on it, pointing to a hallway on Dash's left. Dash followed the arrow, traveling down the dark hallway. She passed by what appeared to be sleeping quarters, however, she couldn't quite be sure. What appeared to be bed frames were scattered about the room, knocked over sideways, and the area held the same cold emptiness that the rest of the building had in plenty. Dash took five more steps forward before seeing another sign, this time pointing to Dash's right. Dash turned to her right, and noticed a flight of stone steps leading upwards. Dash slowly ascended the steps, noticing how much colder she got as she traveled up. When she reached the top of the steps, Dash stopped.

Dash found herself in the remains of an old cafeteria, which she knew must have served young kids horrible food at some point. The room itself was trashed. Twenty wooden tables were lying sideways on the ground. There were four large windows, two on each wall, located about ten feet off of the ground. However, they were no longer necessary, as on the back wall, a giant hole was showing off a view to the building behind the orphanage, letting moonlight into the large chamber. Near the back wall, McCarther was patiently standing around, with Tiny and Brutus standing on either side.

"Hey, kid, glad you could come!" McCarther shouted. Dash didn't move any further than a foot from the steps.

"Glad I could make it," Dash smiled back. "So, is this what I think it's all about?"

"Yeah, baby!" McCarther shouted excitedly. He started to walk towards Dash, a large grin on his face. "See, this is the place I grew up. I was born in an orphanage just like you. Back in the day, this place use to treat us like shit. But, who's shit _now_, baby?!" Dash looked around the remains of the orphanage, looking quite impressed.

"I guess I should say, 'Congratulations!'" Dash said. "I mean, you're quite the success now. Second in line to WMH Enterprises. Not bad."

"Well, I used to be third in line a few days ago," McCarther shrugged. At this time, Dash noticed that the room darkened a bit, as a shadow appeared over the hole in the back wall. "Oh, that reminds me… I need to introduce you to someone who is helping to make my _dream_ a _reality_."

The female figure jumped down from the hole, allowing the moonlight to shine upon her. Even in the darkness, Dash could not mistake the pale white skin, blood red arm, and icy blue eyes of the woman before her.

"Miss Dawson," McCarther said happily. "I'd like to introduce you to the world's greatest assassin, Melanie Moon."

Dash's eyes widened slightly. It was barely visible though, and Dash kept a straight face on regardless, so the others never saw her surprise. In fact, after a brief moment, Dash grinned.

"So… _you're_ the one who killed George Hammonick, I take it?" Dash asked. Moon nodded.

"Perceptive," Moon commented. "I think she will do quite well."

"Oh, German," Dash teased. "_Spicy_. Anyway, I take it that you knew about Miss Moon's… _delightful_ act of murder, right?"

McCarther laughed.

"Oh, kiddo," McCarther said happily through his chuckles. "You really know quite a lot for someone so new at this. See, a few months ago, this guy came up to me with the chance of a lifetime. He told me that I could change the shitty business of America, and turn it into gold. Rip it from the hands of the current pricks that owned it, and give it all away. All I had to do, he said, was get full control of WMH Enterprises. He told me that if I paid for the release of Miss Moon here, and kept the guards quiet about it, then I would be able to fulfill my dream."

"So, she killed George Hammonick because you needed to get control of the company?" Dash reiterated.

"Precisely," McCarther stated. "But all of the power went to that shithead, Brian. We can't let him hold the power. My dream is too important to let him get in the way."

"Just so I know what I'm working for," Dash stated. "What _is_ your dream? Why should I believe in you? I've followed enough secretive assholes who pretend to have my best interest at heart." McCarther laughed again.

"Okay, here's the full tale," McCarther said. "Growing up in this orphanage, I always hated how us weak kids were picked on. The adults were too selfish to put money into better living conditions for us. I wanted to believe that in the future, the little guy would rise up against the big bullies, and take back what was rightfully theirs. All my life, I wanted to give power back to the people. Do away with all of this high society bullshit."

"Because you know that all the upperclassmen want is more power than they already have," Dash said understandingly. "Trust me, I know how you feel."

"Then you know why I want to take over WMH," McCarther said, once again walking towards Dash. "When I take control, and I let Moon's little friend get access to the stuff we need, nobody will ever feel helpless again. We'll see how well the people do against our strength! We have the power to take back the world, and once we do, the new definition of strong will be made, one where everyone who treats _us_ badly will be shot down like fucking cockroaches."

"Putting power back in the hands of the people," Dash said to herself, happily. "Got to admit, you already had me a while back. People are assholes. _Fuck_ 'em. I'll gladly help you start this little revolution of yours."

"Excellent!" McCarther said, getting with an arm's reach of Dash. Even with Dash being relatively short, she was still taller than the old man. "I knew you would support us, kid! Everything you want will finally be achieved."

McCarther held out his hand.

"What do you say, kid?" he asked. Dash paused for a moment, and then started to chuckle to herself. She smiled one of the happiest smiles she had in a long time.

"You know," Dash started to say. "I _used_ to think that you were some perverted, old corporate type."

Dash raised her arm slowly, and then, with great strength, grabbed onto McCarther's hand, shaking it hard.

"But I was wrong…" Dash said, still smiling brightly. McCarther happily chuckled along with Dash.

"Great!" he shouted. "Now, let's get down to busi-"

McCarther paused as he tried to release his grip. But, no matter how hard he tried, Dash didn't let go of his hand. He yanked and pulled it, but Dash didn't budge. McCarther looked back at Dash's face, and saw one of the most terrifying scowls he had ever seen. Dash's teeth were gritted together, her eyes cold and empty. Dash's body shook slightly, as she stared deep into McCarther's eyes.

"…you're just fucking insane!" Dash shouted at him. Dash closed her grip as hard as she could, feeling the bone's in McCarther's hand shatter under such pressure. McCarther screamed, and tried harder to release his grip, but could not.

"You don't _care_ about people," Dash spoke harshly, her voice grave and deep. "I know more about you than you think. You were never _poor_. You were never _starving_. Everything was always handed to you on a silver fucking platter, as you watched everyone suffer around you!"

Dash's voice raised, and her grip tightened further. The pain was so intense that McCarther nearly fell to his knees. However, Dash noticed that Tiny and Brutus were already pointing their pistols at Dash, and the only thing preventing them from firing was that McCarther was in the way. And yet, Moon did nothing, simply watching with hawk-like eyes, as the scene played out before her.

"You don't want more money to _help_ people," Dash sneered. "All you want is more fucking women to sit on your lap as your power grows! Putting people down is your _life_. You've cost _hundreds_ of people their jobs, thousands more their freedom, and millions their hard-earned money, just so you could blow it on one more _fucking_ lap dance! Now, it's time you've suffered for it!"

"Someone!" McCarther called out. "Help me!"

"SPARK, GO!" Dash shouted to the steps behind her.

Dash suddenly ducked. Her hand still attached to McCarther's, the elderly man felt himself being tugged downwards, unable to stand upright. McCarther tried to pull himself back upwards, when he suddenly spotted flying at him.

Tara followed her cue perfectly. Using the steps to gain momentum, she sprung up over Das's bent-over form. As she fell to the floor over her friend, her sword tore through the air with incredible force. By the time Tara hit the ground, the blade had already cut completely through the neck, and McCarther's head rolled to the ground. The guards were stunned, unable to react, and Tara took perfect advantage of this golden opportunity.

"NOW, GIRLS!" Tara commanded. "TAKE 'EM DOWN!"

* * *

"…_the only place you selfish whores would want me!"_

_Dash stormed out of the room, and made sure to slam the door behind her as loud as she possibly could. She couldn't believe how insensitive the girls were to her troubles. Sure, they might have nearly been killed, but she had a bad time as well. They may have had to fight a deadly assassin, but she had to talk to strippers. It was a _totally_ equivalent scenario. Wasn't it? _

_Dash never moved much further from the door. The more Dash thought about it, though, the less justified her words became. Was she imagining this, or was she actually feeling _bad_ about what she said? Dash reflected on what she had said even more, and the more she thought about it, the worse she felt. She thought that being stuck around such nice people was starting to have an effect on her judgment, which she wasn't sure if she wanted or not. Regardless of how much she wanted it, it was certainly having an effect on her. A few years back, she would have never taken back any harsh statements, but now, she felt like she wanted to do something that would defy everything she had ever known about herself. _

_She wanted to _apologize_._

_Dash had been raised in a tough life, and learned how to become even harder. So what was the problem then? Was she going soft? Was she losing her edge? The more she thought about it, the more the answer became apparent to her._

_She hated her friends. She hated how snide and cruel they could be sometimes. She hated how they never seemed to understand anything, and how they always jumped to conclusions. She hated how she needed their combat abilities, yet hated how they didn't usually talk to her, or open up to her, or say nice things to her when she actually accomplished something good. She hated how they acted sometimes._

_And those "sometimes", they acted just like _she _did._

_Dash took a deep sigh, rotated 180 degrees, and then marched back into the room she had left seconds prior._

"_Alright, I'm sorry!" Dash screamed the instant she stepped back into the room She had barely been gone for ten seconds, and the looks of amazement were still plastered on her friends' faces._

"_Wait, what now?" Tara said confused. "You just called us a bunch of whores less than ten seconds ago, and now you're sorry?"_

"_Yes," Dash sighed. "Look, I'm sorry for what I said. In all honesty, my day was a fuckin' walk in the park compared to yours, and I'm sorry for being such an ass about it." Silence filled the room, as the girls were trying to register the seemingly implausible words that were coming out of Dash's mouth._

"_Wow," was simply all Tara could say. "I… I never thought I'd here _you_ apologize for _anything_." Dash took a deep sigh._

"_Listen," Dash said, unusually soft. "I understand that I'm not the easiest person to get along with. In fact, I don't get along with others at all. Maybe that's cuz I had seven assholes as foster brothers, or maybe it's cuz I listened to too much G.G. Allin when I was 9, or maybe it's cause all the grown-ups I knew way back when were complete fucking _dicks_. And I'm fully aware that I may come across as… _bitchy_. But, I figure, if we are going to be a team, I may as well finally start acting like a team player. There… that's your _fucking_ friendship speech. You happy now?"_

"_Actually," Tara said, smiling at Dash. "I'm kind of glad that you said that. It's nice to see you finally opening up, Dash." Dash crossed her arms over her chest._

"_Yeah, whatever," Dash said, still trying to pass off her nonchalant persona. "So, what's with all of the crazy military action here?"_

"_Well," AJ explained. "When Moon attacked us, we were about to be killed by this big knife of hers. Next thing we know, she get a phone call telling her to call off the hit. She leaves the knife in the ground, we take it back here, and now, we're checking for fingerprints."_

"_A phone call?"_

"_Yes, a phone call," Rachel confirmed. "Whoever was in charge must have told her that some change of plan had been made, and I guess she just followed his orders."_

"_Was it The Unknown?" Dash asked, very curious. Tara shook her head._

"_I thought so," Tara said. "But the thing is… at first, Moon cornered us into a building. The reason we were able to get out of that was that Moon only brought five bullets with her due to her confidence in her skills. She ran out of ammo, and she started chasing us. But when Discord attacked us, he said that The Unknown knew that there were six members of P.O.N.Y. So, it couldn't be him, because then Moon would have expected to fight six of us, not five."_

"_Unless," Dash said. "Moon knew that only five people were going to show up to the morgue. But I was on a top secret job. The only people who knew about it were Wilson, you guys, and…"_

_Suddenly, realization struck all of the girls like a bolt of lightning._

"_Wait," Tara said. "Dash, there were no guards by the morgue. What if someone paid them off, so they wouldn't be able to show up?" _

"_That would mean," Dash said, the truth sinking in. "That someone wealthy would have to be able to do it. Someone who wouldn't want any evidence that they were connected to Hammonick's death. If Moon wasn't found, then…"_

"_Then no one would be able to protect George's son from another assassination attempt," Tara finished. "Which means, the company would fall to…"_

_No one said anything else. They didn't need to. Their minds finally clicked together, the puzzle finally fitting into place. It became quite apparent what needed to be done._

"_Tara, I have an idea," Dash said, pulling a slip of paper out of her pocket. "McCarther gave this to me back at the strip club. He said he wants to offer me a job. Tomorrow, ten o'clock." Tara read the address, as a plan started to form in her mind._

"_Okay," Tara said. "Here's what we do…"_

* * *

With brilliant execution, the other girls sprang through the four open windows, guns blazing. Tiny and Brutus immediately dove for cover behind the wooden tables. As gunshots rang around her, Moon remained motionless, watching the P.O.N.Y's land in the room and spring back into action without missing a beat. Fiona stayed back with Tara and Dash, as AJ and Pinky shot at the wooden table where Tiny and Brutus were hiding.

"Tiny," Brutus shouted over the gunfire. "I'll be the distraction. You flank on the right when I say so." Tiny nodded, as he prepared to move. However, one of Pinky's shots passed straight through the weakened wood, and struck Brutus in the head. Brutus collapsed to the ground, dead, as Tiny gasped in shock.

"Ricky!" Tiny yelled out in sorrow. "Damn you! Damn you all! You've killed the man I loved!"

Despite the rather extreme circumstances, Dash couldn't help but crack up into laughter.

"Holy Shit!" Dash shouted with pleasant surprise. "You two really _did_ jerk each other off in a K-Mart bathroom!"

"Focus, Dash!" Tara instructed over the gunfire, although Dash's laughter hardly stiffled. Tara couldn't help but notice Moon standing in the corner. Moon didn't interfere; she just watched. Moon was wearing the same outfit she was wearing yesterday, The outfit actually worried her a bit. While the day before, she thought Moon had simply put on a random assortment of clothes, now, Tara got to see the impressive design of the uniform. Moon's heels and gloves were sharper than steel, and her vest contained many spots that she could be hiding some sort of weapon. Not to mention, Tara saw Moon's legendary sniper rifle attached to her back. Moon calmly watched as Tiny attempted to fire back at the girls, only for Pinky to gun him down. With the guards dead, Moon suddenly attracted all of the attention in the room.

"Freeze, Moon!" Tara commanded. The other girls quickly approached Moon, trapping her in the corner of the room. With four guns pointed at her head, and a sword aimed at her throat, Moon casually raised her hands in the air.

"Nice work, ladies," said Moon, completely unfazed by the death of her comrades. "Though I have to say, you were a little sloppy in your entrance. The pink-haired one dove through about a second late, and I don't even think you remembered to give her a _gun._"

"Shut up," Tara ordered. "You'll be taken in for questioning. Move, and we end you."

"Do you really think arresting me will stop anything?" Moon asked, grinning. "Do you have _any_ idea what you are up against? For all of the work you girls think you have done, you are always three steps behind us."

"Us?" Tara wondered aloud. "Whose 'us'?" Moon smirked.

"You know who," Moon said. "Or rather, I suppose you don't." Dash groaned, and took a step forward.

"Alright, that's enough out of you," Dash said angrily. "If you don't mind, Spark, I'm going to have to wound your prisoner here. Nothing personal."

"Wait, Dash," Tara said. "What are you-"

_Smack_

Dash's fist brutally collided with Moon's facing, causing the assassin to collapse to the floor. Moon held her jaw, as Tara grabbed onto Dash's shoulder.

"Dash!" Tara yelled. "That's _way_ too far!" Dash's smug expression immediately dropped, and Dash took a step back with great humility.

"Right," Dash said. "Sorry." Tara groaned and walked over to Moon. Tara grabbed onto Moon's vest, and hoisted her off of the ground.

However, it was the exact moment Moon had been waiting for. As Moon was raised off of the ground, she suddenly dived back down and delivered a sweep to Tara's legs. Using her momentum, Moon sprung up onto Pinky, her claws violently tearing away Pinky's guns out of her hands. In panic, AJ tried to fire at Moon, but she found the woman to be moving to rapidly to hit. Before she knew it, Moon was right on top of her. AJ was disarmed of her weapon and thrown to the ground. As Tara got back up, Fiona and Dash charged at Moon. However, like a serpent, Moon, slid away from the corner, and into the center of the room. Holding up her own pistol, which she had modified since the previous night, Moon shot the pistol out of Rachel's hands, smiling at the improvements to the gun's accuracy.

"Okay, you bastards," Moon said. She slowly took off her right glove, revealing more tally marks across her hand. "I'm ready. Come at me! Come on! I dare you. I need to cut again. I need to bleed again. I need to feel your blood spraying over me! Let the hunter and the prey become one!"

"Lady," Dash sneered. "You _seriously_ need to get yourself on some medication."

Moon laughed. A cold, wicked laugh that chilled Tara deep to the bone. It was quite clear that Moon was confident on her own survival. Tara readied herself, sword in hand, waiting for Moon to make the first move.

"Come on," Moon said with a wicked smile, blue eyes penetrating through the girls. "It's time to die."

"HEY, EVERYBODY!" A voice suddenly called from above.

Tara was confused. It certainly wasn't from anyone that Tara had heard before. The voice was deep, rugged, and carried with it a hard accent. Everyone in the room looked up at the windows. Two men were perched in the windows, one on either side of the room. The man to Tara's left spoke again.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the man said towards Moon, with a curious look upon his face. "But… are you trying to _kill_ these young ladies?" Moon didn't know what to say to the two odd gentlemen who had suddenly appeared in the windows.

"Uh…yes?" Moon managed to say, rather confused.

The man shook his head.

"Oh, we can't let you do that," the man explained. He and the other man jumped down from the windows, shaking the ground as they landed. Landing in the moonlight, Tara could make out some features of the men.

The man on her left had short brown hair, uncombed and untidy. He had a very rugged look about him, with a square face and cleft chin. He had stubble covering his face, and he smiled a most cruel and sick smile. He wore a large black coat and jeans; something that looked just bought a clothing store. The man on the right was much taller than the other, his hair black, but equally messy. A bushy black beard was what this man had on his head, which covered half of his face. He didn't smile or frown; his face remained straight, nothing fazing through him. He wore almost identical clothing, with one rather glaring exception. His large coat was fur, and the sleeves were ripped off past his biceps. However, that was not the glaring feature. Rather, that was his arms. His muscular arms were red. Not in any light sense of the word, but rather, the entirety of the skin on his arms was bright red, and his arm appeared to be almost crystalline in nature. Both men were rather large in stature, both easily over six and a half feet in height. They were incredibly strong in build, and looked to be an immense challenge to fight.

"See," continued the first man. "You want to kill these girls. And that…" the man cracked his neck. "…is _our_ job."

"AJ," Tara whispered to her friend. "Who the hell _are_ these guys?"

"I…" stammered AJ, who was busy being equally confused by the appearance of the two men. "I have no idea. But I don't like the look of 'em."

"Now," said the man. "If you would please leave-"

Suddenly, Moon dove at the man with lightning speed. Her gloved hand extended, she attempted to claw at his face. However, the man dodged the blow, and retaliated with a quick blow to the stomach. Moon froze from the impact. She clutched her stomach in agony. Moon felt like she was going to sick. She looked up at the man in disdain. He smiled back at her, his face showing nothing but cockiness and arrogance. Moon tried to get up, but suddenly felt a large foot force her down from behind. Moon couldn't even push herself up; the sheer weight of the other man forced her down on her chest.

"Who…" Moon managed to cough out, as she felt her ribs snapping like twigs. "Who the fuck are you?" The cocky man laughed.

"You cannot recognize the best mercenaries in the world?" the man asked with a smug grin. He pointed at himself. "Yuri Korbalov."

He pointed at the other man.

"Kristov Korbalov."

He pointed at Moon.

"Deceased."

Moon choked on her own blood, as she felt each of her organs shattering under the intense weight.

"But…" Moon said with a squeak. "But… I thought…I…"

Moon could say no more. The pressure proved to be too much for her, and her will to live simply gave out on her. With one final breath, her existence had been extinguished. Kristov removed his boot from Moon's back. Suddenly, the two men turned their attention to the girls, who had just witnessed the horrific, frightful, _painful_ massacre right before their very eyes.

"So," spoke Yuri with everlasting glee. "Who wants to die _next_?"

**End of Chapter 5**


	10. Chapter 6: The Brothers of Chaos

**********Note: If anything in the following story is worth noting, positive or negative, good or bad, leave a comment about via review. If every person who read this sentence left a review, the impact would be incredible. We at GodSaveTheKings greatly appreciate feedback, as it substantially helps with the writing process. So please, make your voice heard.**

* * *

**Chapter 6: The Brothers of Chaos**

**Part 1 of 2: Hell Walks Among Us**

** November 3****rd****, 2015**

To say the recent events were unnerving would be an understatement. The rather sudden change of events not only caught the girls by surprise, but also terrified them greatly. They had known that they would most likely be met with a strong opposing force, but little had they anticipated such a force to arrive in such a horrific and hellish manner. As it now stood, the Living Nightmare was dead, crushed underneath a large, powerful boot. The girls were faced with the two men, who had only referred to themselves as the "Korbalovs". It happened to be rather unfortunate for the girls that, for once, none of them had the slightest idea of who these two men were. The only things that they had managed to gather was that they were Russian, they were strong, and that, apparently, the Korbalovs had every intention of killing every last one of them.

"AJ," Tara whispered to her friend, unable to hide the growing concern in her voice. "Who _are_ these guys?" Tara, in the recent weeks, had come to greatly trust AJ with supplying ample information about their foes. However, as Tara noticed AJ's confused expression, she couldn't help but suddenly feel very scared.

"I told ya, already… I _don't_ know," AJ admitted, staying in a fighting stance. This news certainly did not help the unease among the girls, especially since it became noticeable that AJ was equally worried of the Korbalovs. It was a large series of factors that caused such a disturbing presence in the air that night. The way the men looked was not very comforting. The man named Yuri had a cocky grin spread over his face, showing no doubt or hesitation in fighting. He eyed the girls like prey, a hungry wolf waiting to feed. The other man, Kristov, did not share the same joy as his brother. In fact, his face remained unfazed. Despite breaking through the rib-cage of the world's greatest assassin, he refused to show any emotion. In fact, he wasn't even looking at the girls, much more focused on a particular spot on the orphanage floor that was located slightly to his left.

There was something even more unsettling, though, and it was the clear lack of humanity present in both men. Tara could see it in their eyes. They didn't seem to particularly care about who they were killing. Tara wondered if they perhaps enjoyed the act, as she still had little idea of why the Korbalovs had suddenly appeared. It was actually rather concerning, as Tara thought about it more. How did they know where the girls were going to be that night? Had they known about Melanie Moon and McCarther, or was it just chance that they showed up to stop the vile creatures?

"Hey!" Dash suddenly shouted out, seemingly reading Tara's thoughts. "What the fuck are you guys doing here?" At this comment, Yuri shrugged, a smirk placed upon his lips.

"Isn't it obvious?" Yuri stated, as if it were supposed to be the most well-known fact in the world. "Let me spell it out for you. We. Are. Going. To. _Kill_ you. Simple as that."

The girls tensed up, readying themselves for an attack.

"Tara," Rachel whispered, her voice shaking. "These guys are starting to freak me out."

"Stay calm," Tara ordered. "We've dealt with worse stuff than this. These two are just another bunch of psychopaths."

In truth, however, Tara felt quite nervous about what seemed to be an inevitable fight. She didn't know why, but something seemed incredibly off about the two men. It was more than just their crazed eyes and powerful builds. She thought about this rationally. They were six well-trained fighters, all of which knew how to effectively kill, and all of which were prepped and ready to fight. But the men didn't bat an eye. They didn't take up any stances, or pull out any weapons.

They just stood there, one with a look of sheer delight, and the other with a trace of boredom.

"Come on," Yuri taunted. "Aren't you going to strike? You can have first punch. We are very kind gentlemen. There is no need for you ladies to die so rapidly. I mean, we should first talk this out, mayb-"

"Yuri," Kristov suddenly interrupted, his eyes never moving from the ground. "Do you really have to go through this routine _every_ time? Let' just do this job and go back home." Yuri scoffed.

"Jesus Christ, Kristov," Yuri said with a smirk. "Learn to _live_ a little."

Yuri turned back to the girls.

"Anyway," he continued. "You look menacing. Slightly. I believe that this fight should be suiti-"

_BANG_

Yuri was interrupted as a bullet suddenly whizzed through the air, connecting with his forehead. Yuri barely had time to register the event before the momentum from the shot threw him backwards, as he landed on the ground with a thud. Yuri remained unmoving, blood running down his face, as Kristov finally moved his eyes away from the ground to look his younger brother. His eyebrows raised slightly, but he did not seem to be too affected by it.

However, the girls were quite stunned by this, and turned around to see Pinky holding the gun, her sights focused on Yuri's body. Noticing the rather shocked attention she was getting, Pinky nervously lowered the gun and looked around.

"What?" Pinky asked, confused. "Don't tell me none of you guys thought of that? He was _begging_ for it!" Tara breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Pinky," Tara said gratefully. "That was one of the wisest things I've ever seen. Remind me to buy you some cookies later, alright?" Pinky practically jumped for joy.

"Sweet!" Pinky said happily, already dreaming of the sugary snack she could enjoy later. Smiling, Tara turned her attention back to Kristov. He had not moved, simply staring at his brother with an emotionless glare. While Tara felt relieved that one of the unnerving men had been slayed, something else bothered her. Tara didn't know from experience, but she had the rather strong feeling that the death of a sibling would provoke a large range of emotions. Perhaps, it was more similar to the experience when Tara witnessed her classmates die, or Rachel as witnessed Spyke die: shock. But usually with shock, Tara figured, there would be some gape of the mouth, or shortness of breath, or _anything_ indicating horror. And yet, despite his brother being killed right in front of him, Kristov remained uncaring of his brother's demise.

But why? What could possibly be causing him to suppress his emotions so greatly?

"Yuri," Kristov said, his voice containing no sadness or anger. "Are you alright?"

It was quite the ridiculous question. Clearly, Yuri Korbalov was not alright; anyone intelligent could see this. But the question was spoken with such normality and bluntness that it seemed that Kristov was honest in his questioning. Only Tara seemed to notice this question being asked, however, as the rest of the girls appeared to be only half paying attention to the surrounding events. The rest of their attention was focused on the sensational relief of Yuri's demise, with the exception of Pinky, who was still day-dreaming about the wondrous nature of large, chocolaty cookies.

And then, someone started to laugh.

It was a low laugh, starting at a deep chuckle before slowly rising up in volume, turning into a breathless cackling. As it grew, it couldn't help but draw the attention of the girls. The laughter held an almost evil quality to it, as if it would snatch the souls of all who listened to it. The source wasn't hard to locate, but when it was finally found, it didn't seem possible.

Unless Tara was horribly mistaken, it sounded to her like it was coming from Yuri's body. Now that she heard it louder, she was absolutely certain that it came from Yuri Korbalov. All of the relief Tara had felt was instantly replaced with feelings of unease and terror. Suddenly, Tara thought she saw Yuri's hand twitch. But it was impossible, so Tara knew she must have imagined it.

And yet, there it was again. A twitch in Yuri's right hand; just a subtle movement of the index finger, but enough to attract attention of everyone in the area.

And then, Yuri started to move again. A long groan was let out from the seemingly dead body. The right arm slowly rose, before collapsing on Yuri's head. Yuri's legs twitched, his knees shook a little as very slowly, he sat up, taking a deep breath, and then once again started laughing like a madman. Yuri's hand was clutched against his forehead. Blood ran down his face and his fingers. If Yuri was feeling pain, he was no longer showing any signs of it.

"Ow," Yuri finally groaned out. "That _stung_ a bit."

Tara was unable to move. Neither was anyone else. Tara blinked once, and then twice. Shock was starting to come over her. Pinky, who before had been so proud of her shot, now stood frozen, her mouth gaping open and blue eyes unblinking. Dash held her hand to her own forehead, staring in shock at the men. Fiona, who was previously starting to feel comfortable, was now slowly retreating to the back of the group, feeling very intense anxiety. Rachel's legs shook ferociously, as the British girl felt like she was unable to move, too stunned to perform any action. AJ reassumed her fighting stance, trying to block out her confusion and fear with pure adrenaline.

Tara thought that it had to be some sort of trick. Perhaps Pinky had missed, or Yuri was wearing armor of some kind. Maybe, for whatever reason, he had pretended that he had been killed, because of some terrible sense of humor. _Anything_ would provide suitable explanation for what she just witnessed. For if it wasn't anything else, Tara would have to accept the physically impossible as being reality, something which she wasn't sure she could comprehend. Slowly, Yuri adjusted his weight, and rose to his feet, his hand still held to his forehead. Kristov groaned.

"You looked like you were actually _out_ for a few seconds," Kristov said, not very amused by his brother's apparent resurrection. Yuri shrugged.

"Well, I got to make it look convincing," Yuri flashed a grin. He gestured towards the bewildered girls. "_They_ looked rather happy there for a few moments. I always enjoy the reactions."

Kristiov rolled his eyes. "You enjoy this far too much, brother," he said, rather annoyed.

Tara was still in disbelief. She was trying to register everything, but her brain kept refuting it. Yuri, who had just been shot in the head, was now conversing with his brother as if it were an everyday occurrence. At this time, Yuri now removed his hand from his head, and Tara looked at his head in shock, all of her doubt fading away into nothingness.

The bullet, now crumpled and bent, was lodged prominently into Yuri's skull. The wound itself was not deep at all, and the bullet mostly stuck out of Yuri's head. Tara realized that there was no way it could be some kind of trick. There would be no reason for it anyhow. The girls cringed as Yuri suddenly grabbed onto the bullet and, with a brief tug, yanked it out of his skull and tossed it to the ground. The blood continued ever more so, the wound now wider in his skin, as Yuri chuckled at the girls reactions. It wasn't anything any of them knew how to handle. There was only one thing perfectly clear to them, which horrified them ever more so.

Yuri Korbalov had just survived a bullet to the head.

"What… how…" was all Tara could muster out, barely a whisper. "He… he just…"

"Who the fuck are these guys?" Dash said, her calm persona now completely gone. She too had been in quite a state of duress. However, instead of being frozen in fear, her concern gave rise to anger, and a ferocious determination to fight overcame her. "You fucking freaks of nature!"

Dash took a step forward, challenging the two men.

"You think you're so fucking tough?!" Dash called out angrily. Dash understood that the Korbalovs were clearly trying to intimidate the girls. She refused to let these men scare her into submission. She didn't know how Yuri had survived such a wound, but she wasn't at all fazed by it. "Why don't you stop fucking around, and fight us already, you overgrown pussies!"

Yuri couldn't help but crack an even larger smile. At last, he took up a fighting stance, smiling away the entire time.

"Whatever you say," Yuri said happily.

Suddenly, as Dash got ready to attack, she felt someone quickly shove her aside. Dash nearly lost her balance as Pinky angrily pushed her way forward, now carrying two guns and pointing them at the Korbalovs.

"MOVE, DASH!" Pinky angrily commanded. Being a self-proclaimed expert in the field of firearms, Pinky knew exactly what a gunshot did to the human skull. Pinky couldn't say that she understood much in the world, but what she did understand was that it was impossible to survive what Yuri just encountered. She may have believed in many strange things, like a teleporting devil-man who wielded a katana, but she refused to believe that a .40 caliber bullet did not do the same damage as a .40 caliber bullet. Pinky knew that it had to be some sort of trick; some sort of shielding that prevented the damage. And if she were to catch him off guard, then maybe, just maybe, Pinky thought that she could break through the barrier. Convinced of this theory, Pinky wasted no time in unloading the clips into the two men before her.

Kristov was ready. Suddenly moving with great speed, Kristov slid in front of his brother, and raised his crimson arms in front of his face. The bullets bounced off of his arms like rubber. Every time a bullet struck his arm, that section of his forearms seemed to light up, almost as they were setting off ripples in water. As the firing stopped, Yuri suddenly sprang out from behind his brother, and made a mad dash towards Pinky. The blonde girl barely had time to jump back as a large fist impacted the floor where she previously stood. The rapid attack knocked Tara out of her stupor, and she finally regained rational thought. She immediately gave the order to charge at the two brothers. Tara lunged herself at Yuri, while AJ immediately charged towards Kristov. Dash leapt as Yuri as well, and, after a brief moment's hesitation, Fiona began to run after AJ.

Despite the attacks that were now being thrown at him from multiple angles, Yuri kept his focus on Pinky. He lunged at her once again, and once again she jumped backwards, narrowly avoiding a powerful fist. Seeing a wide open opportunity, Pinky balanced herself one leg, kicking forward at Yuri, who was still following through with his attack. The goal of the kick was to deliver a stunning blow to Yuri's head, biding some time for the others.

However, her goals never reached fruition.

With great speed, Yuri unexpectedly reached upwards, grabbing ahold of Pinky's ankle with his left hand. He tucked Pinky's foot under his arm, so that her shin stuck out from behind. He raised his free arm, and then brought his elbow down hard upon Pinky's kneecap. The joint resisted the force of the elbow for a few moments, but eventually, it could not sustain the great pressure put upon it. The knee gave way, the elbow pressing the joint to the ground. With a sickening crack, the knee snapped backwards, now bent in the precise opposite direction in which it was supposed to be. The horror of seeing her leg contorted out of place reached Pinky before the actual pain did. For about a second, Pinky felt absolute numbness.

After that, she felt nothing but intense agony.

Pinky screamed as her nerves lit up throughout her leg. The scream was bloodcurdling, so much that the girls had suddenly frozen in place at the terrifying sound. However, the pain was not yet over. Yuri, smiling happily, removed Pinky's broken limb from beneath his arm, and raised her leg high in the air. The rapid movement sent shockwaves through Pinky's body, and she screamed again. She felt as if she was losing all of her energy. Pinky could no longer support her own body weight, and her other leg fell limb beneath her. She only remained suspended through Yuri's grip, which only doubled her pain. But just as Pinky thought that she had experienced the worst pain in her life, Yuri gave her the unfortunate pleasure of being wrong.

Suddenly leaning forward, Yuri lifted his left leg in the air. Shifting her broken limb, he suddenly kicked towards Pinky's left leg. His thick boot collided with her left knee, and soon, that too cracked under the pressure, breaking sideways, snapping the ligaments in the leg as it went, shattering the bones into fragments. Pinky wanted to scream again, but felt as though she couldn't. She couldn't muster any more strength for it; her brain was too focused on dealing with the unbearable pain.

Feeling contempt with his work Yuri released his grip on Pinky, letting her limp form fall to the floor. Pinky collapsed with a thud, her body shuddering in agony. Her legs lie broken on the floor, bent in two horrible directions. Pinky's fingers twitched and her lips trembled, as the pain caused her movements to spaz out of control. Pinky just stared into the ceiling, her once happy blue eyes now filled with tears, as Pinky waited for the moment when she would finally pass out from the pain.

It was hard for Pinky to not attract attention from the others. Her cries sent shivers down the spines of the P.O.N.Y's. Tara felt horrified. The situation seemed to be slowly unraveling before her. First, the Korbalovs come out from literally nowhere, and kill one of the greatest assassin's in the world with little effort. Then, one of them gets shot in the head, and survives. And now, one of her best friends was lying crippled on the ground, her legs horribly mutilated. It seemed almost too much to bear. But instead of letting her fear take over, Tara tried to bet imitate Dash, and let it become fuel for her anger.

Tara readjusted her grip on her blade, and with a ferocious yell, charged at Yuri. Yuri sidestepped the attack, only to have to dodge a punch from Dash. Tara slashed at Yuri repeatedly, hoping that anything would land on the behemoth. Every time Tara would miss a swing, Dash would come from behind the girl and attempt to land a hit as well, before retreating back behind the blade. It was an effective system that was starting to push Yuri backwards to the wall.

Meanwhile, the fight against Kristov was being met with rather mixed results, as AJ had no idea whether her attacks had any effect on the man. Kristov kept his arms raised in defense, but aside from that, he did very little to avoid any attacks. Fiona's constant kicks were blocked with his massive arms, the impact seemingly causing no impact to the man. Occasionally, Kristov would throw a punch, but AJ and Fiona were able to dodge the slow attacks with relative ease. The three found seemingly themselves in a relative stalemate, neither party able to inflict damage on the other. Yuri, on the other hand, was now clearly on the defensive, the rapid nature of Tara and Dash's attacks keeping him against the wall. However, despite being in a disadvantageous position, Yuri kept smiling away.

"Come on!" Yuri taunted. "Try harder than that!" Tara was swinging her sword as fast as she could, but Yuri somehow dodged every attack. Most of which he ducked underneath; on the occasions he tried to sidestep, Dash forced him back. The cycle repeated itself many a time, and during the entire period, Tara felt nothing but rage. Every slash of her sword was driven with anger; all of her attacks were carrying the pain of her friend with them. Tara pushed herself further, her strained arms burning as she fought Yuri with all the energy she could muster. But just as Tara was finally pushing Yuri to the brink, he suddenly called out to his brother.

"Kristov! END THIS!"

Kristov was still locked in battle with Fiona and AJ when he heard Yuri. Kristov paused briefly, and AJ saw it as an opening to attack. AJ's fist rocketed out towards Kristov's head, but Kristov was as frozen as he appeared. As AJ's right fist shot out, Kristov launched forward a punch of his own. With uncanny accuracy, Kristov's hand collided into AJ's, and the southern girl immediately felt the result. At the moment of impact, her knuckles shatter from the force, crunching her fingers back into her hand. The shock of the punch vibrated through her arm, cracking the bone as it went. When the vibrations reached her elbow, the joint was twisted out of his socket, springing outwards at a sharp angle. AJ was swept off her feet from the impact, and she fell to the ground with a hard thud. AJ yelped; despite her vast combat experience, it still hurt her very badly when her arm was splintered. As AJ fell to the ground, she couldn't help but notice several things. She saw Kristov quickly turning around assaulting Fiona at a lightning speed, so much that Fiona was finding it hard to dodge more of his attacks. AJ saw Yuri finally manage to roll away from the wall, leaping back to the center of the room.

And then, AJ noticed something she had never noticed before. AJ saw Rachel standing in the corner of the room, completely frozen. Rachel didn't get involved in the fight at all. All she did was stare at the battle with unblinking eyes, watching chaos unravel before her.

To be fair, Rachel was _about_ to involve herself in the battle before Pinky got hurt. She had never considered herself a particularly good fighter, but she had felt like she needed to help her friends. But then, she saw what happened to her blonde friend; how Yuri snapped her legs like toothpicks. How he seemed to enjoy every agonizing yell that emerged from her body. How he took the utmost pride in Pinky's unbearable pain. After that, Rachel couldn't move. It wasn't like she didn't want to fight, but her body wouldn't respond to her commands. Her legs shook, and Rachel felt shame. Even Fiona, the most easily scared person in the world, was taking up a fight against these men. But Rachel couldn't do it. Just seeing Pinky sprawled out on the floor, barely moving, sent her into a state of near shock. To Rachel, everything seemed surreal from that point onwards. It was as if everything happened in a deep haze, one which Rachel simply couldn't escape from, no matter how hard she tried.

Rachel watched as AJ fell to the ground and clutched her arm in agony, trying to muster enough will to get back in the fight. Rachel saw how Dash's movements quickened as the rainbow-haired girl got more anxious with each passing second. Rachel saw Dash launch a risky attack towards Yuri's legs. She witnessed Yuri effortlessly dodge, and then, with brutal efficiency, deliver a swift kick to Dash's midsection. The force of the blow cracked Dash's hip, and she skidded across the floor, groaning in aching misery. Rachel saw Tara try to retaliate, bringing her sword down vertically upon Yuri's head. However, Yuri cupped his hands together, and caught the blade above his head, mere inches from striking his skull. Yuri smirked, and then kicked a shocked Tara hard in the stomach. Rachel saw Tara double over, as she coughed up blood over the floor. Rachel could tell that Tara had probably just ruptured another organ, seeing the glazed, pained look in her eyes. After a few seconds, Tara could no longer support herself, and collapsed to the floor, her blade hitting the ground with a clang. Rachel looked back at Kristov and Fiona, everything still hazy to her. Rachel saw Fiona stare at Tara's crumple form, before the shy girl immediately charged at Yuri in a full sprint, a look of anger that Rachel had never seen the likes of. It appeared as if Fiona shouted something at the Russian; Rachel couldn't tell. Everything was still too surreal to comprehend. Fiona dove after Yuri in a ferocious manner, however, Kristov grabbed onto her foot from behind. Using her momentum, Kristov swung Fiona around and slammed her into the nearby wall. Fiona was dropped to the ground, her nose broken in four places, and her face dripping with blood.

It was like a nightmare. That was the closest thing Rachel could compare it to. She was trying to understand everything that was happening around her. Rachel had just witnessed all of her friends being taken out one by one, painfully and mercilessly. Rachel didn't know how it could be real. She had seen her allies take on the criminal underworld, crazed assassins, and demonic warriors. It didn't seem possible that they could have fallen so easily. That didn't change the fact that as she shook in fear, her friends were slowly dying in front of her. Rachel didn't want to admit it t herself, but she seemed to slowly be accepting that as reality.

They were _dying_.

Rachel started to panic, even more than she already was. It was one of the worst feelings she had ever felt. She saw her friends in trouble, but she did nothing to help, and she could do nothing to prevent it. Yuri walked up to Fiona, and examined her. After deciding that she had not early suffered enough, Yuri stomped on Fiona's arm, hearing the satisfying breaking of bone beneath his boot.

"Yuri," Kristov spoke disapprovingly. Yuri ignored him, now walking over to Tara, placing his boot on her chest. He slowly applied pressure down upon Tara, hearing her breath rush out of her as her ribs were splintering.

"Yuri, that's _enough_," Kristov said more sternly. Despite his clear disapproval of Yuri's actions, he didn't even attempt to halt his brother. Yuri looked out of the corner of his eye, and saw AJ rising to her feet. Her right arm lay limp by her side, but she did her best to assume a fighting stance. She glared angrily at Yuri, however, AJ's focus was primarily on Rachel. Rachel saw AJ looking at her, but didn't respond. She couldn't tell if the experienced agent was angry at her or scared for her. Rachel felt humiliated once again. Now, even AJ was proving her worth, despite her gruesome injury. AJ snapped her eyes back to Yuri. Yuri prepared to charge at the girl, knowing full well that he could take her in her wounded state.

"DIE, YOU FUCKING SADIST!" a voice from behind him suddenly called out. Yuri lunged to the side as Dash jumped down from behind him, swinging the butterfly knife that was previously owned by Melanie Moon, that of which she stole from the base. Dash wasted no time in attacking again. Dash held the knife with the blade extended downward, as she took a series of slashes at Yuri's face. AJ soon joined in, and the two girls were now trying to keep up with the mad Russian. However, Kristov did not join to help his brother. Rather, he focused his attention on Rachel, who was still staring at the chaotic battleground in a nightmarish haze. Kristov hadn't bothered noticing her presence before, but now, all he could do was stare at her with the same emotionless expression she had seen all night. Rachel noticed him staring at her. She didn't try to run away or fight, and he didn't try to attack. Both of the simply stood in place, looking at the other; Kristov looking at Rachel with curiosity, and Rachel looking at Kristov in terror.

Meanwhile, AJ quickly discovered that she was fighting a losing battle. No matter how much training she had, being restricted of her dominant arm was a severe handicap. AJ could strike as accurately with her left hand, and when she was fighting an opponent that seemed to be near invincible to begin with, her chances of victory were slim. Dash didn't seem to slow down her attack, however. Dash didn't show any signs of injury. In fact, she seemed to be attacking even faster now, her muscles pushing themselves to the limit as they moved at a rapidly increasing pace. AJ almost stopped fighting completely to watch such an amazing feat of rage. With one broken hip, Dash moved with the speed and ferocity of a lion, and her cries of anger mixed with pain sounded equally animalistic. Unfortunately, even at Dash's ultimate speed, she still couldn't land a single hit. Eventually, Yuri got tired of dodging useless strikes. As Dash swung again, Yuri reached out and clutched her hand, crushing it in his own. Dash was forced to drop the knife from the pain.

AJ attempted to run in and help Dash, but Kristov suddenly reentered the fray. Grabbing on to the back of AJ's shirt, he slammed her against the wall with ruthless force. AJ was stunned for a moment, before her instincts started screaming at her to dodge. At the last possible moment, AJ moved her head to the side, as Kristov's enormous fist struck the wall. The red hand burst through the wall, and when he pulled it back out, some of the concrete came with it. Kristov grabbed onto AJ's shirt with his other hand, and forced her back into place, before kneeing her had in the stomach. AJ bent over, trying to compose herself, but Kristov struck her twice more, and finally, succeeded in knocking her unconscious from the sheer stress on her body. Dash didn't fare any better. While still holding Dash's arm in a tight grip, Yuri picked up the butterfly knife of the ground. Looking at it for a brief moment, Yuri smirked.

Then, he lashed out with the blade. He dragged the blade upwards across Dash's face. While she was able to dodge most of the attack, Dash's speed let her down in the end. The knife dragged across her right eye, piercing through her cheek, barely scraping the lid of her eye, and scarring up another inch across Dash's face. Yuri let go of Dash as she fell to the ground screaming, cupping her eye as blood poured from the wound. Her misery did not last long however, as Yuri kicked her hard in the side, eliminating the rebellious girl from the realm of consciousness.

"Well, that was enjoyable," Yuri muttered to himself. "But not nearly as enjoyable as it could be!"

Yuri went back to his prior work, walking over to the girls' bodies, and delivering more harsh blows. Rachel shook every time a hit was landed. The nightmare was in full effect now. No one could fight against Yuri's tremendous blows. Rachel watched in horror as Yuri kicked Pinky in her wounded legs, causing her to whimper. Rachel remained unblinking as Yuri decided to stomp on Fiona's other arm, shattering it like glass. As she watched, all Rachel could do was feel worthless. She watched blood erupt from mouths, bones burst forth from the skin, limbs nearly being torn away from torsos, and all she could do was stand and watch, like a spineless coward.

And then something finally snapped inside of her. She couldn't take the resounding feelings of terror and guilt. Rachel had gone through the last two years of her life feeling worthless. She had always pretended to be helpful, but in reality, her feeble excuses for generosity have never truly been of any worth; she had known it for such a long time, but she tried her best to ignore it. Now, as she hid in fear as her friends were having their lives beaten out of them, she knew she could take it no longer. Every truthful, horrible thought struck her as hard as her friends were being struck with punches. Rachel's hand curled itself into a fist, and suddenly, she saw the world clearly again. The Korbalovs weren't paying any attention to her. Kristov was busy looking disapprovingly at his brother, who was stomping repeatedly on Tara's chest. Her lips twisted into a scowl, her teeth clenched, and her eyes burned with fury.

Rachel Germain didn't know what she would be able to do, but she refused to be worthless any more.

With a painful vengeance, she charged headfirst at Yuri. Kristov looked towards her as she approached, but did nothing to stop her. Now merely a few feet away from her target, Rachel leapt into the air, her leg bent. With incredible velocity, her foot swung out, and collided with the back of Yuri's head. Rachel landed on the ground facing away from Yuri, a smile of achievement on her face. But as she looked back, she saw that Yuri was still standing, his head simply bent forward form the impact. He turned quizzically at her, and then, upon seeing her, started to chuckle.

"Hey, Kristov," Yuri said calmly. "We missed one."

As Rachel's mood rapidly dropped, and her panic came back in full force, she heard a strange sound. It was almost a loud humming; a vibrating that slowly increased in volume. Rachel nervously turned her head towards the source. The sound was coming from Kristov, or more specifically, his arm. Kristov's right arm was starting to glow, it color shifting from crimson to nearly white. Kristov clenched his fist as the humming increased in volume, now excessively loud. Kristov slowly pulled his arm back, as the arm itself was now nearly white, his fist still a light red. With enormous power, Kristov slammed his arm into the ground, and the floor shook as if an mighty earthquake was occurring.

The next thing Rachel knew she was flying through the air very rapidly, before she slammed into the wall with great momentum. She heard the cracking of bones, although she had no idea which ones they were. She slid down the wall, and remained lying still at the base of the wall, a large dent in the concrete now above her. Through her hazy vision, she saw Kristov's arm return to its crimson nature, as the large man walked over to Tara.

"I think that's enough fun for you, Yuri," Kristov said sternly. "It's time to put them out of their misery."

"Wait, wait, wait," Yuri said, waving rapidly in the air. His face was contorted into a wicked grin, one of which that was only worn by men with the most disturbing thoughts. "Who says we have to _kill_ them? I mean, we could always-"

"No!" Kristov said harshly. It was the most emotion that he had shown all night, and it was clear he knew exactly what his brother wanted. "We have a job to do. A very _well paying_ job. We are not disrupting our business so you can interact your sadistic thoughts on these girls."

"Come on, Kristov!" Yuri laughed. "I need to relieve some stress. Besides, that Discord guy said he wanted them to suffer, and die slow. He even said that the more they are in pain,and the longer it lasts, the more we get _paid_! Who are _we_ to disappoint a customer?"

"They're just _kids_!" Kristov yelled. "Look at them! They've suffered enough tonight. Hell, they've probably suffered enough for the rest of their lives. Who even _knows_ why someone would want to kill these little girls? Clearly, the punishment has been served. Let's kill them, and go home. I hate the States."

Yuri groaned, and then looked at Rachel. He suddenly regained his grin.

"_She_ hasn't suffered," Yuri said, pointing at the girl. Kristov looked at the semi-conscious girl on the floor. "How about this, then? You want to be humanitarian? Fine. We leave these girls alive. Someone will surely find them, and maybe, they might get treatment, so they could almost walk normally again. But, in order to protect our code of trust, we take the busty one back with us to the place, and see what we can learn. I'm sure that girl could tell us plenty of good information. I would _sure_ like to know what a girl like her is doing here. Who knows, maybe we could even find out who that Discord guy is. After that, once the girls recover, and we know _why_ we should kill them, we end their lives (or beat them again, _then_ let them die), get the payment for letting them suffer, and then everyone is happy. They live a few extra days, you get to be a good person, I get to interrogate someone, and Discord gets to see them in agony. What do you think about _that_?"

Kristov frowned. He didn't really know how to respond. His brother had never acted beyond his instincts for destruction. Kristov knew full well what would happen if Yuri didn't have someone to take his anger out on. Kristov was never entirely interested in their particular business practice like Yuri was. Honestly, the intense physical pain he caused never amused him, and he didn't enjoy letting his victims suffer, especially if they appeared to be six perfectly average teenage girls (albeit one of them was holding a katana, and another had incredibly accurate aim with a handheld weapon, which he couldn't explain). He didn't know how much the girls were suffering, but he knew that it could not be pleasant.

He was faced with two very upsetting options. He could let the girls live, although one would be taken as hostage, which, with his brother involved, was never good for anybody. The second option was killing the girls, taking the money, going back home, and enjoy life. However, Yuri _would_ be rather furious with the concept of letting them off with something as simple as death. And Yuri could get pretty violent when he was mad.

With this in mind, Kristov chose the option that clearly seemed like the more humanitarian thing to do.

"Take the girl," Kristov said bluntly, watching Yuri's face light up with glee. Yuri strolled over to Rachel, and hoisted her off of the ground. Rachel moaned in agony as she was slung over Yuri's shoulder, her body completely limp. The two men, now having decided upon allowing the girls to live, had nothing left to do. As such, Yuri and Kristov casually walked to the steps at the end of the hall. Kristov begrudgingly walked down the stairs. He at least felt some relief in the fact that most of the girls were unconscious. At least for now, they could not feel the horrendous damage that had been done to their bodies. Although it seemed cruel, Kristov knew that by keeping Yuri happy, more people ended up being much safer than they would have been otherwise. Yuri followed his brother, but suddenly stopped at the top of the stairs, remembering something. He turned back to the girls with a grin.

"Oh, by the way," Yuri said, not caring that no one could hear him. "Discord sends his regards, or something. I don't really care. Anyway, _great_ fight you girls put up! Hope to do it again, sometime!" Yuri laughed with delight as he hopped down the stairs, causing Rachel to moan in pain with each step. They left the room as it was, completely deserted, save for the five girls on the floor, lying dormant as if they lay in their own tombs.

* * *

_AJ sat quietly in the dark room. Her expression was vacant. With wide eyes, she stared at the black table before her. She couldn't think of anything else to do. Maybe she could pray, she thought. She thought that perhaps, if she asked God nicely enough, He could wind back the clock, and prevent all of this from happening. But even with the most pure soul, no one could undo the cruel fate of time. So AJ just sat there, staring at the table. If she listened closely enough, she could hear people talking on the other side of the wall. But even if she had the will to strain her hearing, everything would still sound like murmurs and whispers._

_The door slowly opened, and a man stepped in. It wasn't any one she had ever seen before. He was a rather large man, his muscular physique showing through his black T-shirt. A mop of deep red hair rested upon his head. Dark stubble covered his face. And for some reason AJ would not yet understand, he wore a pair of dark shades, despite the fact that the room was already dimly lit. The man, very cautiously, sat down at the other end of the table. AJ only glanced at the man, before resuming her long stare at the table. The man appeared very somber, as if he shared the same pain that she felt._

"_Hello, miss," the man finally spoke up. His accent was thick, and sounded foreign to AJ's ears. She had no idea where the man was from, although she assumed that it was from a place in which everyone talked equally strange. The man continued._

"_How are ya feelin'?" the man spoke again._

_AJ didn't answer._

"_I understand ya must be havin' a rough time," the man said. "But it'll be real nice of ya to talk with us."_

"_You talk funny," AJ finally spoke up, without moving her gaze. The man couldn't help but smile at the observation made by the young girl._

"_Yeah, people tell me that often," the man said with a bright smile. "That's what ya get for bein' raised in Dallas." _

_The room became silent once again, as AJ showed no signs of cheering up. And considering what the young girl had been through, the man couldn't blame her._

"_So," the man started to speak again. "Ya… want to tell me your name?" AJ remained silent, not moving. The man placed his hand upon his chest, and smiled again._

"_My name is MacDonnell Clive," the man said. "People call me Mac."_

"_Hi, Mac," AJ said softly. "My… my name is AJ."_

_Mac smiled brightly once more. _

"_How old are you, AJ?" Mac asked, happy that the girl was starting to talk._

"_Fi-five," AJ managed to stutter out. _

"_Okay," Mac spoke. "That's a nice hat you're wearing, by the way." _

_It was an attempt to cheer the girl up, but it immediately had the inverse effect. AJ's eyes were starting to water. The hat that Mac had mentioned was the last gift her mother had given her. AJ remembered how her mother had won her the Stetson at a carnival game, beating out several other people in the county. The mention of the object on her head brought back memories of her parents, and the times that they shared together. It was simply too much for her to bear. Slowly, AJ lifted her head to look at Mac, her big eyes wet with hot tears._

"_I…" AJ slowly spoke. "I… I want my mom." _

_AJ started to cry fully at this point, unable to contain herself any more. She had been trying to suppress her emotions since earlier that day, but she felt like she could no longer control herself. Her whole body shook intensely with sobs, and her face turned bright red as tears streamed down her cheeks. Mac didn't know how to comfort her. He had never dealt with children before. So he simply sat there, watching the young girl experience absolute torment. AJ had lost track of time when her tears finally slowed. It wasn't as if she became any less sad; she had simply run out of tears to shed. As her sobs died out, AJ had finally come to grips with the harsh reality of her life._

_Her family was dead._

_And she was alone._

* * *

**November 4****th****, 2015**

AJ slowly opened her eyes, and immediately wished that she was still unconscious. The pain in her arm and stomach was nearly unbearable. It took her a few minutes for the painful haze to wear off, and she tried to recognize her surroundings. Everything was white. She heart a constant clicking sound coming from her left, and several people talking right in front of her. But when she looked up, she saw that it was only a television mounted on the wall, which was constantly being flipped through its channels.

"It's about fucking time you woke up," AJ heard a voice say from beside her. AJ tried to move her head, but she was too weary to move. However, she slowly managed to shift her eyes, and noticed Dash lying in the bed beside her. Dash's gaze was locked on the television screen. The remote was in her hand, and she was constantly clicking a button with her thumb, watching the images change. Dash's expression was one of seriousness, and AJ could plainly see why. Over Dash's right eye, a fuzzy white patch had been placed, and bandages were wrapped around it to keep it in place.

"Man, some crazy shit has happened in the past day, wouldn't ya say?" Dash said normally. She didn't give any clear expression that would suggest that she was in pain, but AJ knew from the tone in her voice that Dash was rather upset. "Doc's been saying that the blade cut through my eyelid. Says I gotta wear this dumb fucking patch for a while, but I should be lucky that I'll be able to see again. My hand was nearly broken, too, and my hip got fucked up. Can't feel it though; lots of meds."

"What…" AJ tried to speak out. "What happened?" Dash shrugged.

"Well, you've been asleep for about fourteen hours," Dash started. "Basically, we got jumped. Haven't seen Wilson or Celestia around yet, so I don't have a _fucking_ clue who those guys were. But they did some fucked up shit to us. A doctor came in earlier; said your elbow was snapped out of place, your arm shattered in five places, your fingers were broken and your bottom two ribs cracked. Honestly, sounds like fun. In fact, I think the doctor said they even found your hat, and brought it back here."

"But what happened to the others?" AJ asked, still feeling horrible. Out of the vast pain she had suffered in her life, she could certainly say that this set of injuries had cracked the top three. Dash took a deep sigh.

"Well," Dash said, somewhat somberly. "I hear it's not too good. Pinky's been having reconstructive surgery done on her knees since we got here. They said she will be lucky to walk again. Fiona's bones were apparently sticking out of her skin in four spots. She's been out cold, at least as far as I know. And Spark…" Dash paused. "Spark's got it bad too. Her stitches busted like a balloon, her intestines got sliced, seven of her ribs are broken, and she's in critical right now. I think she might still be in surgery, trying to get one of her organs pierced back together. I really don't know; haven't heard anything in hours."

The two girls said no more, letting the sounds of the television fill the room. AJ somberly thought of her friends, all of which seemed to have it far worse than she was. She felt like a complete failure. After all, she was the one who had asked for them to take up such a dangerous assignment. She felt like each of their injuries was her responsibility, and it was a burden that no one should have needed to carry. But then, AJ suddenly realized something about Dash's description, which worried her even more so.

"Wait, Dash," AJ said, concerned. "What happened to Rachel? Is she alright?" Dash frowned, and lowered her head.

"That's the thing," Dash admitted. "I asked one of the doc's about that. But he said that when he found us, there were just us five lying on the ground. Rachel wasn't found with us. I have no idea what happened to her. She could be dead, for all I know." However, AJ smirked.

"I wouldn't count on it," AJ said, happily. Dash looked at her friend, confused. AJ elaborated. "See, when we were fighting, I saw her hiding out. The big guys didn't even notice her. She probably escaped, and is back at Camelot right now."

"That is quite the good theory, Miss Balle," came a voice from the door. Dash and AJ saw General Wilson standing in the doorway, a very disappointed look on his face. "But Miss Germain is nowhere to be found. We checked every one of her preferred locations in the city, but she is simply _missing._"

"Wait," Dash said, fearfully. "You don't think that-"

"We'll have to wait to continue this conversation, Miss Dawson," the General stated. "I simply came in to see how you girls were holding up. When the others regain consciousness, then we'll discuss details."

"Wait, does that mean that everyone's alright?" Dash asked, full of hope. "Is Spark out of critical yet? Is she okay? What-"

"Calm down, Miss Dawson," Wilson said strictly. "The others are going to be fine. Miss Sullivan was returned to stable condition about two hours ago. Miss Samswell has been staying by her bedside the whole time. Once Miss Patrikson is out of surgery and awake, we can reconvene."

Wilson left the room, leaving the girls to wait alone. They assumed he went to check up on the others, but they honestly didn't care much where he went. It was quite obvious that there was a far more concerning matter at hand. AJ knew that the likelihood of all of the girls surviving this program was slim, but she didn't think that something like this could happen so soon. Worse, she didn't even know if Rachel was dead. AJ knew that the man named Yuri seemed to get great joy from causing others misery. It drove the most terrible ideas through her mind. What if Rachel was being tortured? What if they started ripping her limbs off one by one? What if they tore her throat open? The many "What if's" was too much for AJ to deal with. She stopped thinking about, and tried to focus on the task at hand. AJ only needed to wait a couple of more hours, and then, she could finally learn what the two monsters really were.

* * *

Tara groaned. It was really all she could do. Breathing hurt her too much. Every time words came out of her mouth, it felt like fire was erupting from her heart. Tara took solace in the fact that she was not alone at this time. Celestia paced across from her, and Fiona sat on the edge of her bed, sorrowfully watching her as she lay. Fiona's arms were carefully wrapped in bandages, and were placed in casts to rest comfortably across Fiona's chest. Fiona's angelic face was now covered in a bright white bandage, which wrapped tightly around her recently adjusted nose.

"Tara, is there anything else that we can do for you?" Fiona asked, softly. Her voice sounded clogged and distorted; an unfortunate side effect of the injury to her face. Tara shook her head, not wanting to speak. Fiona lowered her head, and stared at the floor. Celestia, who was still pacing, appeared to be deep in thought about some relatively unknown manner. It had been two hours since she had been told that AJ was awake. It was now a simple matter of waiting for Pinky to arrive to discuss the very urgent business before them. Luckily, they did not have to wait long. Within the next half-hour, Pinky, AJ, and Dash were slowly wheeled into the room; a strange request that befuddled several of the nurses at the hospital. The room was now very cramped, having to fit five beds inside of it, making it very difficult for anyone to move around. Celestia settled by leaning against the far wall, gazing out the window. One minute afterwards, Wilson strolled into the room.

"Has the security camera been muted?" Wilson asked Celestia. Without turning away from the window, Celestia responded.

"Yes," she simply said. Wilson nodded, and turned his attention to the girls.

"Alright, ladies," Wilson said, very formally. "We have much to discuss." Immediately, a barrage of questions was thrown his way.

"What happened to Rachel?"

"Who were those Russian guys?"

"Why did they have superpowers, and why the fuck don't _we_ have them?"

"Calm yourselves!" Wilson suddenly demanded. The room went mute, as Wilson sighed. "I understand that you have many questions regarding yesterday's events. Please, give me a moment to try and answer them to the best of my ability. This is all very difficult to explain."

Wilson took a deep breath.

"For starters," he began. "In case none of you are aware, Rachel Germain has gone missing. The last time we have heard from her was last night. Now, we have thoroughly searched through every possible destination Miss Germain may have gone to. We've searched every corner of Camelot. We've searched every major fashion retailer in the city. Hell, we even searched back at Ymerton for her. But unfortunately, _nothing_ has come up. We figure that there are two possibilities for her whereabouts. She _could_ be seeking refuge somewhere deep in the city. However, we believe that it is far more likely that the two men who have attacked you have taken Miss Germain captive. Based on what we've seen of these two men, we believe that is the more likely case."

"Do… do you think that she's…" Fiona said, fearfully. "You know….g-g-gone?" Wilson shook his head.

"No," Wilson stated. "If they wanted any of you dead, then you would be. For whatever reasons we cannot comprehend, they have taken her away. Speaking of which, this brings us to our next problem: the attackers. You may be saddened to hear this, but… we don't know anything about them."

The girls all moaned with gradual disappointment. It seemed to them like the Intel was progressively getting worse. First, it was The Beast which they knew nothing about, then The Unknown, and now, it was the two men. The girls had encountered strange things over the past month, but whenever it came time for an explanation, the chairmen always fell short. Wilson was now going on about what they did know. Based on Dash's descriptions, the two men were named Yuri Korbalov and Kristov Korbalov. They were both Russian-born, gigantic in size, very strong, very quick, and had an unmatchable bloodlust. As Wilson described this information, all of which the girls had already known, Tara noticed something strange about Celestia. Celestia never once joined Wilson in explaining things, something which seemed rather odd, seeing as how she had always done it in the past. Instead, Celestia stared out the window, her lips pulled tightly back into a scowl. Tara had seen this expression once on Celestia's face before, but she was unsure where. However, Tara was quite sure that she knew what the assistant chairwoman was feelings.

Celestia was feeling guilt.

"Now, for the strange powers these men possessed," Wilson continued. "We are working on an explanation for that. To say that these powers were real would be _preposterous._ Gifts such as these are not possible for any human to maintain. Our best current guess is that they received knowledge of these _illusions_ at the same place where they received their training. We still don't have any idea of where it may be, but our top men are working non-stop to determine-"

"He's lying."

Wilson froze in place. All attention suddenly turned towards the woman leaning by the window sill. Celestia never looked up, but was quite apparent to everyone in the room that she was the one who spoke. Celestia turned her head away from the window, and looked Wilson dead in the eye.

"He's _lying_ to you," Celestia said sternly. "He knows everything you need to know, and if he refuses to tell you the truth, then I suppose that _I_ will."

"Bridgette," Wilson said, disapprovingly. "You know what your mission parameters are. We agreed upon this."

"General, with all due respect," Celestia said angrily. "We cannot allow them to be deliberately misinformed at a time like this. We have one of our soldiers taken _hostage._ This calls for a break in parameters."

"They don't need to know," Wilson said forcefully.

"Wilson, if the Korbalovs are involved in this, then it is _crucial_ we tell them who and what they are. The Korbalovs are a threat to their lives, this entire operation, and, unless you have forgotten, _you._"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up," Dash interrupted. "What the fuck are you guys talking about?" Celestia looked back and forth between Wilson and Dash, being met with stares of anger and confusion. She knew that she could be expelled from the assignment for what she was about to say, but she refused to risk the girls' safety again. Celestia settled her eyes on Dash, and sighed.

"Yuri and Kristov Korbalov," she began. "Are arguably the two most dangerous men on the planet. They are a pack of mercenaries, who sell their services around the world, under the name, 'The Brothers of Chaos'. They refer to themselves as 'The Iron Hammer', and 'The Red Fist'. Yuri carries a sledgehammer around with him for assignments, and Kristov… well, you can probably guess where he got his nickname from. They were born poor, and started committing crimes by the time Yuri was eight years-old. Yuri commits his actions to take out his rage on those around him, or for sheer enjoyment, or for some other reason no sane person would _ever_ comprehend. _He_ is an absolute psychopath. Kristov, on the other hand, from what we've seen, only helps his brother because he doesn't want to risk his brother's safety, or, perhaps even more so, because he doesn't want his brother to stray too out of control. He doesn't appear to that horrible of a person, in general, but it still doesn't change the fact that he has been responsible for the deaths of a hundred or so people. The two of them have been arrested twelve times, and have escaped from prison twelve times. The KGB has orders to shoot them on sight. The younger one, Yuri, is a sadist, and he has Rachel captive to torture her. Slowly. In fact, he'll probably keep her alive for at least another two weeks, just for _fun_. Getting Rachel will be of utmost importance. Obviously, we would much rather prefer Miss Germain to be alive than deceased. However, there is another massive problem at hand. If Rachel slips during her torture, says anything at all about this operation, then we will _all_ be at risk even further."

"Why is that?" AJ asked.

"Because they want to kill me," Wilson responded. The girls immediately look his way, and saw that he stared at the floor. "I was one of the men who locked them in jail for the first time. It was nearly fifteen years ago. Until then, they had mostly been able to get away with their crimes against humanity. However, the Russian government contacted us, and asked for our help. I was able to track the men down, even with their extraordinary abilities. They've been seeking vengeance against me all of these years. If Miss Germain tells them where to find men, then basically, my time on this earth will be finished."

"Wait," Tara suddenly said. It burned her throat to talk, but she needed something to be said. "I get all that, about the Korbalovs past and whatnot, but there's something we _need_ to know. Yesterday, we saw Yuri take a bullet to the head, and _live_. You said you had the answers to what we needed to know. So please, _how_ did he do that?"

Celestia sighed, and Wilson stared at the floor. It was quite clear to Tara now that they knew the secret behind the Korbalovs but desperately did not wish to answer. However, Celestia decided that it was necessary to tell Tara the truth.

"The reason why the Korbalovs are like they are," Celestia said. "The reason for the strength, the red arms, the invulnerability, _all_ of it… is because they are Macers."

"Wait…they're _what_ now?" Dash asked confused. Celestia took a deep breath.

"It's a long, complex story," Celestia said. "One that you probably wouldn't full understand."

"We've got time," AJ said. "If this is really that important, then you should tell us."

"Alright," Celestia said, cautiously. "I'll try. See, many years ago, there was this scientist. Brilliant man, he was; one of the brightest minds of the century. But unfortunately, he discovered that he had brain cancer, and he was terminal. This doctor, Dr. Murphy, attempted to create a device to possibly reverse the effects of his illness. After years of development, Dr. Murphy finally finished his design: the Molecular Adjustment for Continued Evolutionary Reform Device Module, or the MACER Device, for short. The machine attempted a revolutionary idea: reconstructing the human genome; changing the DNA of a human being by adding an extra nucleobase to the sequence."

"So, their DNA would get all fucked up, essentially," Dash confirmed. Celestia nodded.

"In basic terminology, yes," Celestia responded. "But it's much more complex than that. The machine worked by emitting gamma radiation at high velocity, which carried the extra particles in its waves. The radiation would penetrate through the cells, deep into the helices of DNA. The nucleobase would attach itself in the most efficient way possible to the rest of the DNA. After the process was finished, the subject would essentially not be _human_ anymore. The entire genetic code would be altered, and when all was said and done, the subject would be fully affected by whatever change the altered RNA sequence caused. The grafting process was rather intense for the subject, as they would be transformed into something entirely different."

"So," Fiona said, trying to understand what the assistant-chairwoman was saying. "What would happen to the Macers? Would they be alright?" Celestia shook her head.

"That's one of the main problems," Celestia explained. "Since everyone has a different arrangement of genetic code, each individual is affected radically different. From what we've seen, we have witnessed changes as subtle as the altering of eye color, to obtaining an STD, to growing a third arm, to changes as extreme as what happened to The Beast. Some effects are permanently active, while others need to be triggered by conscious thought. Unfortunately for us, the Korbalovs have similar DNA, which means similar effects, and they both appeared to fall on the far right side of the spectrum."

"Both experienced a massive change in their genome," Wilson continued. "They gained a passive effect from the machine. It restructured and reinforced their muscles and bones. They were already strong to begin with, but after their exposure, they became, on a practical sense, walking tanks. With six times the density of normal muscle and bone, and five times the hardness, they can perform astonishing feats of strength. They can tear through the human body with a single punch, or rip the walls off of safe doors. Bullets just bounce off of them, or get lodged inside of their bodies, planted just beneath the skin. Theoretically, they should be able to die if they withstand enough damage, but we don't have the resources to bring actual _tanks_ to battle against them. So, as it stands, they don't fear any of their opponents, because they have yet to face someone who ever had the slightest chance of killing them."

"But if they really had that muscle structure, they would be in constant agony," Tara mentioned. "Their bodies wouldn't be able to handle the stress. No one was meant to have those physical powers."

"But there is more to them than that," Celestia said. "The increase in muscle and bone density also had a dampening effect on their nerve endings. They probably are in constant pain; they just can't _feel_ it anymore. Every sensation had about fifteen times less of an impact than on normal people. And on top of all of that, Kristov seemed to have his arms converted into two energy reactors. He can just absorb any or all kinetic energy that connects with his arms, and redistribute it as he sees fit. It was as if God decided to build the two most dangerous monsters on the planet."

"Well, how did they get to be Macers in the first place?" AJ asked, confused. "I mean, this Dr. Murphy guy or whatever should have kept the project to himself. How did it get out and, now that I think about it, how many of these damn Macers are there anyhow?"

"Unfortunately, all great advancements must be uncovered sometime," Celestia said, sadly. "Murphy's plan did not work out; his cancer wasn't cured. He grew angry at society. He nearly went mad, and started selling instructions on how to build the device on the black market in rage. The devices were mass-produced, and criminals started using it on themselves. We did our best to contain the entire epidemic. In the end, we believe we re-obtained most of the MACER devices, which we immediately deactivated. The Korbalovs most likely got their powers from one of the reproduced variants. All in all, we estimate that about one hundred Macers were created during the time, and they all probably remain around today, either suffering with their diseases or enjoying their gifts. As for Dr. Murphy, we arrested him shortly afterwards. He was near-death by that point. Three weeks later, we were interrogating him to see if he could make a machine to reverse the effects of the device, but he was too weak to think properly anymore. We watched him succumb to his illness right before our eyes, taking the only chance to erase the Macers with him."

"So… there are just a _hundred_ of these super-powered freaks walking about the entire fucking earth?" Dash questioned.

Celestia somberly nodded. There was no more to explain to the girls. All information that needed to be told was said. However, it didn't provide any happiness to the young women. In fact, it made them feel worse. The simple thought of knowing that there were people existing in the world that had such devastating power was too much to bear. In truth, they could have been anywhere, and they could have capabilities far beyond anything they could ever dream of. What was worse was that two of the most powerful ones were holding their friend hostage, slowly torturing her and probably planning on killing her.

And there was practically no way to stop them.

**To Be Continued…**


	11. Chapter 6: The Brothers of Chaos (2)

**IMPORTANT NOTE FOR ALL READERS: First of all, we at GodSaveTheKings would like to thank all of you who have been reading the story till this point. It truly means a lot to us.**

**Now, for the important news: by this point in time, we have just about reached the half-way point of the story. As such, we are going to be taking a brief hiatus from uploading more of the story, taking effect immediately after this chapter.**** We have tried to keep a consistent uploading schedule, and we have kept with the plan throughout. After this point, it seemed like the perfect place to take a rest from this biweekly schedule we have adhered to. Consider this last chapter akin to a "mid-season finale", if you will. Writing these chapters is a lengthy process, after all, so this break will allow the rest of the story to be produced in full. Once more chapters do return, they will be once more be updated twice per week, until the story is finished. **

**Until our return, please notify us what you have thought of the story up to this point, whether it be basic opinions, or critical problems, or thoughts about what will happen next. As always, it would be greatly helpful to the writing process, and will be very much appreciated.**

**New chapters will resume on February 9****th****, 2014.**

* * *

**Chapter 6: The Brothers of Chaos**

**Part 2 of 2: The Violet Specter**

Rachel awoke to an intense pain. Her eyes shot open, and she saw nothing but darkness. Everything hurt. Her sides stung with a deep ache, her chest burned, and her legs were poisoned with unbelievable agony. Rachel was sitting down, as far as she could tell. However, when she willed her body to rise, she was met with restraint. She found herself unable to move, and soon realized that she was in fact tied to the chair, her arms wrapped uncomfortably behind her. Rachel's immediate instinct was to look around for a way to escape. But as she moved her head, she suddenly felt a large hand grab onto her hair, and yank back. Rachel stared up at the dark ceiling, as a deep voice spoke from behind.

"I wouldn't move, if I were you," she heard Kristov say from behind her. "You might see the damage caused to your body, and the last thing we need for you right now is to go into shock. If that happened, you could receive serious damage to your mind, so don't look down. Do you understand?"

"What…" Rachel sputtered out, not answering the question, being far more concerned for her well-being. "What the _fuck_ is going on here?"

"Well, much to my disappointment," Kristov explained. "Yuri has a bit of a joy for torture. Unfortunately, you are his latest victim."

The cruel reality set in on Rachel. She had absolutely no idea where she was, except that it was dark and discreet enough for her to be held there. She had no idea how much time had passed since she was knocked out, or what had happened to any of her friends. For all she knew, everyone she cared about had died from their wounds. Rachel suddenly started wriggling around in her binds, trying to break free. But for her, every slight movement was like an eternity of agony, and she had to stop moving. Kristov released her from his grasp, and her head fell forward, as Rachel lost all strength to keep it upright. Rachel's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and when she could finally see a foot in front of her, she froze.

Rachel stared down at her own body petrified by what she saw. Her clothing was torn in many places, and she could see fresh cuts scraped across her skin. Her foot appeared mangled, her toes bent out of position at odd angles while the foot itself seemed to be stuck on its side. Fresh blood poured down her chest, and Rachel suddenly became very light-headed. She watched as the blood, _her_ blood, trickled down her body and to the floor, creating a large, deep crimson puddle. From the sight of it all, Rachel could no longer hold in the contents of her stomach. Her head still bent forward, she vomited violently, covering her feet and the floor in the foul substance. She felt horribly ill, and immediately started to harshly cough afterwards.

"I told you that you shouldn't look down," Kristov said calmly. Rachel was now taking deep breaths, trying to calm her radically racing thoughts. She stopped thinking clearly, and her mind went into a state of survival. She heard a door opening, and then saw a rectangle of light appear several yards in front of her. A silhouette filled the light, and next, the light quickly faded away. Rachel saw a large figure approach her, holding something in his hands.

"Well, it looks like the British bitch finally woke up," Yuri said smugly. "How did you enjoy your nap?"

"Go to hell," Rachel said weakly. She was suddenly met with a very large object colliding with her stomach. Blood spit forth from her mouth, as Rachel became limp. She groggily raised her head, and saw what had struck her. Yuri was holding a sledgehammer, roughly six inches across, and three inches thick. Yuri held it with pride, tossing it between his hands.

"Aint she a beauty?" Yuri asked rhetorically. "See, back in the day, I used to bring this hammer out on assignments. It couldn't do anything that I could not already do with my fists, but it helped with the intimidation. Any fucker who saw this practically shat their pants in terror. But lately, I find that it bogs me down too much to be of any real use. Still, it's always fun to feel the weight of this colliding with a person, and it certainly still has the same impact, don't you agree?"

Yuri suddenly swung the hammer against Rachel's shin, breaking the bone easily. Rachel screamed, tears starting to stream down her face. Yuri, pleased with the response, struck Rachel's other shin with the same force, causing the leg to shatter painfully. Rachel's sobs were becoming harder to materialize, as each blow took away more and more energy. At the rate Yuri was going, Rachel doubted that she would be able to survive the night. However, Yuri put down his hammer, which gave Rachel a small sense of relief. But the sensation of relief quickly washed away as Yuri started punching Rachel in her chest and stomach, trying hard not to immediately kill the girl. He left her face intact, but he completely damaged her body. The cuts had split open further, her chest had swollen tremendously, and she felt like she was about to keel over at any moment. But unfortunately, any time she came close to the sweet temptation of unconsciousness, Yuri slapped her across the face, shocking her awake.

"I'm _really_ sorry about this," Yuri said, slowing down his rate of punches. "Honestly, it's not like enjoy torturing people… okay I _do_, but that's aside the point. Making you suffer is part of the contract. And when several million dollars requires you to make a teenage girl wish she had never been born, well, who am _I_ to argue?"

"Yuri," Kristov spoke up. "She's had enough. Let her be."

"Fine, Kristov," Yuri said reluctantly. "I'm sure that this has gotten a message across, regardless."

He stopped attacking, and Rachel's body gave way on her. She sank deep in her chair, her head fallen over, and her spirit broken. Her body, which had once been considered to be godlike by many of her peers, was now torn and shattered. Rachel could no longer feel any of the wounds on her mangled torso, only allowing numbness to register in her thoughts. It seemed that this had been enough for Yuri, who now started to walk out of the room.

However, he stopped dead in his tracks, as he heard someone laughing.

It was quite the peculiar laugh for anyone to hear at this time. Considering the amount of blood and violence, no one knew what could possibly be so hysterical. The laugh sounded deranged and rather high pitched. Rachel suddenly noticed that the laugh was, in fact, coming from her own lips, and her mouth had curved into a bright smile. Rachel had no idea why she was laughing, but she couldn't help herself. Perhaps the pain was so intense that she had gone delusional, or perhaps she had given up all hope in her life. Or, much more likely, it was _both,_ yet Rachel didn't really seem to mind at this point that she was going insane. She was staring at imminent death, yet nothing frightened her. A sudden urge to challenge the Korbalovs had risen in her chest; one final moment to prove her worth. It was if every doubtful emotion that had plagued her thoughts had built into one long, endless strain of madness. Rachel knew, deep down inside, that the Korbalovs would not make her fell worthless again. She would need to be stronger than their intimidation.

She would _have_ to be.

Yuri stared at Rachel, disturbed, while Kristov watched the two from behind Rachel's chair, his emotions ever eluding him. Rachel suddenly leaned her head forward, and stared with wide eyes at Yuri. Her mouth was dripping with her blood, which stained her lips and her teeth. She continued to stare at Yuri, a somewhat crazed look in her eye.

"You fucking idiot," Rachel said, her voice hoarse. "You're _both_ fucking idiots. Do you think that I'm afraid of you? Do you think that I am going to cower before you? I may not be able to move now, but I swear to God, once I'm out of these bonds, I will fucking _end_ you. You'll both be begging on your knees by the time I'm finished with you. I don't care about what you do to me. You can beat me, choke me, stab me all you want, but it doesn't matter. I have too much left to do in this word for you fucks to kill me. You don't even _want_ to kill me, do you? But here's the important thing: even if you shatter my body beyond all repair, and actually _do_ kill me... I'm not afraid to die. Because I know that even if I fall, even if I get beaten till I bleed from my eyes and I am paralyzed for life, then my comrades will _destroy_ you in the same way you would have destroyed me. In fact, General Wilson is probably having his best men search for me right now, and when they find you-"

"WAIT!" Yuri suddenly shouted, his eyes wide with surprise. Rachel froze, her smile fading away. "Did… did you say General Wilson? As in, General Anthony Wilson, United States Military? Big man, gray hair, shit-eating grin?"

Rachel didn't respond, although she couldn't hide the look of panic and surprise on her face. Yuri suddenly looked at Kristov, who seemed to be expressing a similar face of surprise. Yuri suddenly picked up his hammer, and pressed it angrily to Rachel's chin.

"WHERE IS HE?!" Yuri shouted forcefully, pushing the hammer closer to Rachel's face. Rachel didn't know how to respond.

"Wha-" was all she was able to get out, before Yuri shouted again.

"WHERE IS THAT FUCKING MAN?!" Yuri yelled furiously. "For nearly fifteen years we've been hunting for that bastard! And now, you're telling me that you know where he is! If you can even comprehend what this means, then you are going to tell us where he is located. So, I'll ask once again… WHERE IS WILSON?!"

Rachel looked down upon the hammer which rested upon her chin. She glanced back and forth between Yuri and the hammer, and then smirked.

"I won't be intimidated by you," Rachel said smugly. "You can't _scare_ me. I already know you won't kill me; you like pain too much to do that. As I said before, I'll _never_ give in to you fucks. Torture me all you like, but you will never get me to talk. You psychopathic shits are pathetic for trying to get information out of me." Yuri growled angrily, removing the hammer from Rachel's face, and started to pace around the room, furiously.

"Oh, and by the way," Rachel continued, finishing off her string of verbal attacks to the Korbalovs. "As someone who has spent their entire life studying fashion, let me be the first to tell you that you look like an old, washed-up, fucked-up, drunkard, child molesting, small knob-ed _arseholes_."

Yuri froze in place. Suddenly, a horrible grin spread across his face. He turned and looked Rachel dead in the eye, causing her smirk to instantly vanish. He menacingly walked towards her, and suddenly grabbed a tight hold of her face.

"You know what," Yuri said, smiling proudly. "You have quite the awful tone there, miss. I can see that you like to insult people based on their appearances. That's not very nice now, so we'll have to… _fix_ that, wont we?"

"Yuri," Kristov suddenly spoke up, very sternly. "Don't do what I think you are about to do. She's had enough." However, Yuri completely ignored his brother, and continued to stare down Rachel.

"You want to act tough?" Yuri asked in a mocking tone. "Because you are not. Don't overestimate your power, little girl. Now, I have been hunting this man for fifteen years, and _you_ know where I can find him. So, unless you start being a little more _cooperative_, then we cannot fix this problem we are having right now. Luckily, I _think_ I have a way of getting you to talk. You said that I look like a monster? Well, let's _change_ that."

Kristov didn't want to be a part of any more of his brother's insidious acts. Kristov, annoyed by his brother's lack of compassion, stormed out of the room, and walked down a long hallway. But even from many yards away, he could still hear Rachel's screams echoing down the corridor.

* * *

**November 5th, 2015**

To say that the girls were pleased with their current predicament would be a lie.

To say that they were comfortable would _also_ being a lie.

At the General's request, the girls were being transported back to Camelot, where Tara had been informed of the formation of a medical wing, in case of future injuries. Tara lay down on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, staring up as the ceiling as she felt the pavement traveling by beneath her. Three ambulances, each holding one bed-ridden P.O.N.Y, were trailing behind a black station wagon, where Dash and Fiona were riding with Wilson and Celestia. Being trapped in the ambulance gave Tara plenty of time to think.

Tara was a very intelligent person, although she had started to take notice that she lost her ability to think clearly whenever irrational events had come about. And, considering that her entire foundation of fundamental principles was just completely eradicated, she was surprised that she was not distraught. In fact, she was taking the news with relative ease, and she didn't know why. Everything she thought she knew about the world was simply a lie to her, but she somehow felt solace in it. After much thought, she decided that it may have been because she had been so desperate to learn the mystery behind the Korbalovs, that when the answer came, she felt gratitude in knowing such information. Or perhaps it might have been that she could finally point to a scientific explanation of an otherwise supernatural phenomena.

However, as her worries about life's great mysteries faded, her concern for Rachel grew. Reflecting on their time together, she realized that they had not spoken as much as she thought that they had. Tara considered Rachel to be one of her best friends, and yet, the two had really known each other for a month. Even then, their conversations were brief. But despite this, Tara did care a great deal for her friend's safety. Hearing that the Brothers of Chaos were probably torturing her at that very moment was certainly not making her feel better.

However, Wilson had said, before they left, that he had a plan to rescue Rachel. Tara didn't know what he could possibly mean by that. Dash and Fiona were the only ones who could walk, and even then, Fiona had two broken arms, and Dash had a damaged eye and a broken hand, rendering them near useless in combat. She supposed that Wilson would explain his plan in time, although for now, she would have to be contempt of watching the ceiling.

Meanwhile, in the ambulance in front of Tara's, Pinky noticed that she was feeling quite worried. It was a strange sensation for her to be in. Pinky didn't usually feel worried. The only emotions she ever felt were happiness, cheeriness, and joy. She preferred to cycle through those options every now and then, but never strayed into foreign feelings. But now, she simply felt despair, as if a shadow was draping over her, and she had no means to escape its dark, depressing wrath. Pinky knew that she had many reasons to be feeling this way. A doctor had told her very slowly and clearly that she would most likely never walk again. He said that if he did, she couldn't make more than subtle movements, or else her legs might be permanently damaged. But she didn't think much of it at the time. Nothing in her life had ever slowed her down, and she doubted that anything would, so she was certain that she would make a full recovery. But now, lying down, her legs aching and burning in a horrible sensation, she was no longer feeling so certain of this. The thought of never being able to walk again terrified her, and although she may not have admitted it to herself, she knew deep down that she was _afraid_.

On top of this, there was also the matter of her friend being kidnapped. Pinky had talked to Rachel the most during her month at P.O.N.Y, and she felt like they had started to form a deep bond. Rachel was really the only person she could open up to, since Dash didn't seem to understand, and the other girls mostly ignored her. Of course, opening up usually entailed describing fun stories to the British girl, and then receiving a confused and shocked stare. Still, it counted as friendship in Pinky's mind, and she always enjoyed the time they spent together. The thought of someone so close to her getting injured made her feel even _more_ afraid. But Pinky didn't like being afraid, so she immediately tried to get her mind off of her negative thoughts. She leaned her head back, so that she was now looking at the driver of the ambulance.

"Are we there yet?" Pinky called out. The driver shook his head.

"Nope," he responded. Pinky sighed. A few moments later, she called out again, this time even louder, in case she had been misheard.

"Are we there yet?" Pinky asked again. The driver groaned.

"If you start repeatedly asking me that," the driver said angrily. "I will shove you out of this car. You think I wanted to be an ambulance driver? Hell, no! I wanted to be an actor! So don't make me put up with this bullshit."

"Jeez," Pinky muttered out. "Just trying to make some small talk. Don't gotta go psycho on me."

"We're here," the driver suddenly called out, bringing the ambulance to a screeching halt. The next thing Pinky knew, she was being rolled back into Camelot, following behind Tara. The girls formed a line with their stretchers, while Dash and Fiona trailed them. Leading the group, Wilson began instructing them of his plan, now that they were in a safe location.

"Obviously, we need to acquire Ms. Germain's location," Wilson stated. "But considering that none of you can fight, we had to call in outside assistance."

"What do you mean, 'outside assistance'?" Tara asked.

"We've contacted a special field operative to search for the Korbalovs," Wilson explained. "She's highly trained, and with any luck, she'll be able to incapacitate the threat."

"Um, General," Tara spoke. "No offense, but if six of us couldn't take down the Korbalovs, what could one person do?" As she spoke, she found herself being wheeled into a bright room deep into Camelot, that of which she had never seen before. However, it looked strikingly familiar, for it was designed to resemble a hospital ward. The large, white room held plenty of space for all of the girls to rest, and now, Tara was laid against the wall, giving her a perfect view of the entire room.

"This operative," Wilson continued. "Has received extensive training, and has over ten years of intense combat experience. Although the Korbalovs may be strong, she can hold her own long enough for a small team to rescue Ms. Germain."

"You should know quite well of her talents, Tara," Celestia suddenly spoke up.

"Why?" Tara asked, confused.

"You know her," Celestia said simply. "You should be lucky to know someone with such experience. You actually wouldn't believe the trouble we went to get her here. We had to pull her out of a warzone, not to mention pull her away from her husband. But when we told her that _you_ were involved, she seemed to become much more cooperative."

Tara's eyes suddenly went wide. Everything sounded so similar to her. The training, the war, the husband. Could it really be _her_?

"General Wilson, Madame Celestia," a voice from the door came. Tara turned hopefully, and despite the horrible agony she was in, she couldn't help but smile at the sight. Standing at attention in the doorway was a young woman, not nearly yet thirty. Her face was small, and she looked about ten years younger than she actually was. Her hazel eyes stared directly ahead, not yet noticing Tara's presence. Her arm was raised in a salute, and it brushed against her light purple and yellow hair, which flowed past her shoulders. She wore a dark blue uniform, symbolizing her specialized training.

"I've come as requested," she spoke with authority.

"Cadence!" Tara said, happily. Immediately, Cadence turned to look at Tara, and her stern expression quickly washed away into a smile of relief. Without hesitation, she suddenly moved towards the bed, and pulled Tara into a deep hug.

"Tara!" Cadence said happily. "I'm so glad you're okay! They told me everything. Why didn't you tell me what you were doing here? You should have-"

"Cadence, please let go," Tara said, painfully. Cadence quickly let go of Tara, blushing slightly.

"Oh, sorry," she said sheepishly. "I just, haven't really seen you in a while."

"Is Sam coming?" Tara asked hopefully. Cadence sadly shook her head.

"It's just me," Cadence said somberly. "He had to stay behind."

"Oh," Tara breathed out. "Still, it's nice to see you. By the way," Tara turned to the other girls. "These are the others. That's AJ, Fiona, Pinky, and Dash. Girls, this is Cadence, my sister-in-law."

The other gave simple greetings, which Cadence returned happily.

"Sister-in-law?" Fiona asked, surprised. "I didn't even know you had a brother."

"Yeah, I've been seeing Sam since Tara was little," Cadence said. "I used to babysit her." Tara blushed at the comment, finding it slightly embarrassing that her childhood memories were being revealed right in front of her friends.

"You don't need to tell them everything, Cadence," Tara said, somewhat annoyed. The last thing she needed was for Cadence to start revealing information about her youth, as there were certainly many events that she would have liked to forget. However, Dash, not skipping on any opportunity to see Tara squirm, started to ask questions to Cadence.

"You dated her brother while you babysat?" Dash said, smugly. "Man, I only _imagine_ what crazy sexual fantasies you acted out. Tell me, did Tara ever walk in on you while yo-"

"Rebecca," Celestia sternly interrupted, making both Tara and Cadence feel much more comfortable. "Now's not the time. In fact, now's not the time for any reminiscing. Cadence, you have much to do. You know your parameters?" Cadence, growing serious once more, turned to Celestia.

"Yes, ma'am," Cadence replied. "Find and secure Rachel Elizabeth Germain, and if possible, derail the goals of Yuri and Kristov Korbalov, whatever those end goals may be. Their locations are unknown, so I'll have to gather Intel from across the city. If you presumptions are correct, I will have two weeks to find and secure Germain before she is lost."

"For someone who's about to take on those big fellas," AJ said. "You seem awfully calm about it." Without changing her expression, Cadence looked at AJ.

"I'm aware of their... _unnatural_ abilities," Cadence said, her voice unwavering. "But I don't really care. If brute force can't stop them, then there are other ways to make them cease. I'll just have to find one."

"Cadence," Tara said, growing fearful. "Are you sure that you'll be alright? Those two weren't people. They were monsters. I… I just don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Tara," Cadence said, reassuringly. She smiled. "I'll be fine. But first, we need to find where they are. Wilson, you said you had a potential lead?" Wilson nodded, and then walked towards the door.

"Yes," he stated. "If you'll follow me, we can get started. The rest of you, get some rest. We need you back in action as soon as possible."

With that, Wilson left the room, with Cadence following not far behind, waving to Tara as she left. Celestia soon got up and joined the two, leaving the rest of the girls alone. Dash groaned and flopped down across AJ's legs. AJ felt as if she should have complained, but she felt as that Dash would not be one for sentimentality.

"Man, this suuuuuucks," Dash moaned out. "We should be searching out there. I can't believe we gotta count on some other fucking bitch to do our job for us. No offence, Spark."

"Dash, there is nothing we can do," Tara said, ignoring Dash's rather insulting remark.

"No," Dash corrected. "There is nothing _you_ can do. But look at me, still walking about. My hip's shattered, but I'm walking around anyway, just because I can't _feel_ it. Hell, even Fiona could do something."

"No way," Fiona denied. "We did all that we could. All we can do now is wait for Cadence to find Rachel, and bring her back."

"Fiona," Dash said, stubbornly. "Do you really want to put all of your trust in someone that you literally just met a few seconds ago? Or would you rather lead the search?"

"Wait a minute," AJ suddenly said. Something about Dash's words put her off. She had heard Dash complain many times before, but this sounded different. When Dash complained, she swore. A lot. But Dash sounded serious for once. There was also something about the tone of her voice. It sounded as if she was trying to be persuasive. And when Dash sounded persuasive, it was guaranteed that she had a horrible idea in her head.

"Dash, what are ya suggesting?" AJ asked. "You better not be thinking what stupid idea I _think_ you're thinking."

"If you think I'm thinking about taking a vehicle, leaving the grounds, and then looking for Miss Giant-tits," Dash said. "Then I am thinking of what you're thinking of what I fucking think, I think, I think. Jesus fucking Christ, I _thought_ that would be apparent."

"Dash, that's suicidal," Tara scolded. "You're injured."

Dash scoffed.

"I'm down an eye," Dash explained. "So I got no depth perception. That's what Fiona's for."

Fiona appeared rather shocked.

"You actually want me to _go_ with you?" Fiona said, astonished. "But… my arms are broken. And it would be _really_ dangerous."

"But you have all of those crazy kicking moves, like when you beat down the crazy sword dude back at that high school," Dash said, clearly not concerned about Fiona's capabilities. "Secondly, if you're just joining a search, then you might not have to fight. Thirdly, I can still kick ass even if we do get into a fight. And lastly, I know for a fact that you want to go out there and help the Brit just as badly as any of us."

Fiona sighed. Although every sensible part of her was saying that she would most likely be slaughtered in an unholy fashion, she couldn't not deny that she wanted nothing more than to go right back to helping her friend. She didn't know why she felt this way. Of course, she had always enjoyed helping people, but recently, she noticed that she seemed to be putting herself in harm's way far more often than she would like. First, she fought off against The Beast, then she tried to act as a sacrifice against Melanie Moon, and now she was considering rushing off with Dash to stop two men who were essentially gods. Perhaps, if circumstances were different, and she had time to think about it, she might notice some recent event that caused this bizarre psychological behavior. But her passion to save her friend outgrew her concern, and reluctantly, she bowed her head.

"Fine," Fiona said, softly. "I'll… I'll help you rescue Rachel."

"Oh no, you won't," Tara said stubbornly. "As leader of this team, I _forbid_ you two from launching a crazy suicide pact to save Rachel. I already have Cadence rushing off into danger; I don't need anyone else doing the same."

"Come one, Spark," Dash protested. "Don't be like that. We'll be far more helpful out there than waiting in this shitty hospital room underground."

Despite the protest, Tara's answer remained firm.

"No," she repeated.

"Tara, how about this," Fiona reasoned. "What if we came to a compromise? We would help search for Rachel's whereabouts, but we wouldn't launch any attack to free her. If we find anything, we tell Cadence, and then come right back here. Is that alright?"

Tara considered this for a long moment. She mulled over the thought in her head many times, thinking carefully. She didn't know why Fiona decided to help Dash. Tara, after all, had been trying, unsuccessfully, she might add, for a month to make Dash become less compulsive. It didn't help that any time Dash had an idea, someone would immediately agree with her. Although, Tara was quite interested that _Fiona_ went along with the plan. Usually, Pinky was the one who instinctively went along with Dash, although Tara could clearly see why this was not the case for this plan. Tara, after some more consideration, found herself leaning towards letting Dash and Fiona go. In all honesty, despite her desperately not wanting to let Dash run loose around the city, especially with someone as fearful as Fiona in tow, there was no complaint why she shouldn't let them go. Fiona would ensure that they stayed out of trouble, it added extra support to Rachel's search, and if something went wrong, Wilson would immediately retrieve them and bring them back.

So in the end, after what seemed like hours of waiting, Tara expressed her confirmation with a deep sigh. Dash thrust her hands up into the air in victory, before suddenly grabbing onto Fiona's wrist, and dragging her to the door.

"Sweet!" Dash said ecstatically. "Time to go Fiona. Got a lot-"

"WAIT!" Pinky suddenly screamed out. It was so sudden that Dash stopped dead on her tracks, and stared at the hyper girl. Although, at this point, she wasn't hyper; her body still, her face clearly showing how nervous she was. It was something that none of the girls had ever seen before.

Pinky was being serious.

"I…" Pinky said slowly. "I want to come with you." Dash rolled her eyes.

"Um, Pinky, unless you haven't noticed," Dash said snidely. "You can't walk. That, and I was actually going to use my sweet-ass bike to travel, which only holds two people. So, unless you get magically healed, you can't come with us any way." However, Pinky persisted.

"Please, Dash," Pinky begged, her eyes showing sincerity that she did not show often. "I _promise_ I won't be a problem. Just let me help."

"Listen, Pinky," AJ interjected. "I know ya wanna help, but there just aint anything you can really do right now. Trust me, as someone who's seen wounded people in the field before, it'll just cause more issues." Pinky's mood slowly deflated, and now, she crossed her arms over her chest, and lowered her head.

"But…" Pinky said, quietly. "Rachel's _my_ friend, too. And, I need to do _something_ to help her."

"Pinky, we all wish that we could help," Tara said somberly. "But this just isn't your fight, right now. Dash and Fiona can handle themselves." Although Tara scarcely believed in her own words, she said what she needed to in order to make Pinky feel better. And it seemed, to some degree, Pinky became less upset, and calmed down.

"Okay," Pinky said reluctantly. Suddenly though, she perked up, and pointed sternly at Dash. "But before you leave, I need you to get me a laptop from one of the offices. I'll see if I can hack the device for any useful information."

"Um, okay," Tara said, slightly confused. "Pinky, when did you learn to hack computers?"

"My mom worked for the FBI," Pinky said, nonchalantly. "Taught me a bunch of things. It's actually quite fun once you get the hang of it. See, it starts with-"

"OKAY, BYE!" Dash suddenly called out, yanking Fiona out of the room and then slamming the door to avoid one of Pinky's stories. With Fiona guiding the way, the girls were able to retrieve a laptop from one of the rooms in Camelot, slip back to the others, deliver the device, and then escaped outside. The guards easily let them go after Dash gave the excuse that they were going to get pizza to eat away their grief. With both girls on the bike (which Fiona was rather nervous about), and went on the search for their lost comrade.

* * *

Cadence's first guess to Rachel's whereabouts was an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city. From the Intel that she gathered from Wilson and Celestia, the factory used to produce toys, specifically dolls for six year old girls, which, somehow, seemed to inexplicably attract a fan base of sexually frustrated teenage boys and middle-aged men for no particular reason whatsoever. The factory was had been closed since the late 1980's, but there never seemed anyone caring enough to tear the place down. Cadence could never say she liked the dolls. She certainly knew of their infamous existence, and she had a friend who possessed one, but she never wanted the _My Special Princess_ dolls.

So, she didn't feel comfortable wandering around the rather large factory, listening closely for any indications of the Korbalovs. Instead, she felt the scene nearly resembled something out of a horror film. The factory was dark and dank, cobwebs filling up the machines, and old remains of toys scattered about the floor. The main chamber, which Cadence walked through, was empty, save for the machines, and the dust in the air that kept filling her lungs, making it harder to breathe with each passing minute. Her gun was readied in her hand, and she kept the weapon raised, anticipating an attack. To her, the disturbing factory seemed like the perfect place where Rachel would be held hostage.

Unfortunately for Cadence, a different threat lurked in the next chamber of the factory. However, the people awaiting could not say that they had the skill or the reputation of the Russians.

The Grizzlies, the occupiers of the factory, were one of the street gangs that were rising to take over the position of power previously held by the Smiling Dragons. When Discord first took reigns over Philadelphia, the Grizzlies were the first of many to pledge allegiance to him. As such, they rapidly picked up the knowledge of the criminal underworld, and now, with Discord missing, many in that world believed that the Grizzlies would most likely take full control of crime in Philadelphia. As such, the positions in the Grizzlies were becoming harder and harder to come by, and it took a lot of work for everyone to be sorted out, which further delayed the takeover.

The leader of the Grizzlies was a man named Lucas White, a man whose cocky nature and large disrespect for the law made up for the fact that he was mostly incompetent. Being the leader, and thinking of himself in a rather high regard, he forced his workers to refer to him as "Mr. White", or "Head Grizzly". He was Discord's first contact whenever a major operation went down, and as far as anyone was concerned, he knew all of Discord's tricks. And, as such, he decided on every day to dress like his former boss, in an all-white suit, white tie, black shirt, and white hat.

However, try as he might to imitate Discord, he certainly was not the mad man everyone wished him to be, which is why he was now complaining to the other three men in the factory about how poorly they were handling his drug operation.

"What do you mean you can't get better speed than this?" Mr. White demanded. It was not his first decision to make a base out of the factory. Each day that he stayed there, his dark chocolate-colored skin became covered with more and more dust, and he found that he was getting some sort of mild illness from it all.

"Look, Mr. White, sir," his underling said. "You know I aint the brightest. I'm doing the best I can manage."

"Well, it isn't good enough!" Mr. White screamed. "How am I supposed to surpass the legacy of Discord if I can't even make some decent meth? I'm about to become king of the underworld, and you are _fucking_ it all up!"

"Sorry, Mr. White, sir," the lackey apologized. "It won't happen agai-"

_BANG_

Cadence, having overheard all she needed to from the conversation, decided that she might as well take the extra few seconds to put down a few more criminal masterminds. She rolled into the next room, taking the others by surprise as she blew a hole right through the underling's head. Her aiming was precise, and tactically, within a matter of seconds, she shot down the other two henchmen, and turned her sights on Mr. White. Mr. White attempted to reach for his gun, but the next thing he knew, a bullet tore through his hand, and he had collapsed to the ground. He whimpered as the pain flowed through his hand, and he felt tears welling in his eyes. Cadence walked up to him, and planted her foot on his chest, pointing her gun at his head.

"Okay, you big softie," Cadence said snidely. "You seem like you have top knowledge of all crime going in the city. After all, you are the 'King of the Underworld'. What do you know about any recent kidnappings going on around here?"

"What?" Mr. White asked, confused and afraid. "I…I don't know anything." Cadence responded by firing another shot through his other hand, causing him to cry out in pain. He whimpered again.

"Bullshit," Cadence said sternly. "You don't seem like a tough guy, so I doubt you'll be able to hold onto your lies for long. Now, I'm looking for two men. Big men. They've taken a teenage girl with them into hiding, and I know that they are somewhere in this city. So, unless you want me to blow that hand _off_, I suggest you tell me where they are. Now."

"But…" Mr. White whimpered out. "But I really don't know. Honest. I would tell you if I knew, but I don't. I swear to God."

Cadence considered his response for a moment, before deciding that he was lying again, prompting her to now adjust her aim downwards, and shoot a bullet through his foot. Mr. White made incredibly pitiful sounds, as he now started to cry fully.

"You're lying again," Cadence said harshly. "I'll give you one last chance. Tell me what I want to know." Mr. White panicked. He didn't know what else to say to the woman in order to avoid any more agony. He knew _nothing_. She thought he knew _something_. Unless he could suddenly conjure up some information within the next few seconds, he would be done for.

But then, he thought of an idea. A very wicked idea which would guarantee not only his survival, but an increased chance for business opportunities. An idea so brilliant, that Mr. White was amazed he had even come up with it at all.

"Okay, okay," he moaned out. "I'll talk. I'll talk."

"Good," Cadence smirked. "Now, what have you hears about the kidnapping?"

"Well," Mr. White began. "I'm not sure exactly, but I remember something about Johnny Wild from the Princes that they were helping some dudes take care of some girl. Said something about 'watching her suffer', or some shit."

"What else do you remember?" Cadence asked.

"Nothing else," Mr. White said nervously. "That's all. But I think the Princes are planning on clippin' her tonight."

"Where?"

"On the east side," Mr. White said. "That's where the Princes reign supreme."

"Thank you, very much," Cadence said happily. Mr. White breathed a sigh of relief. Not only would he escape, but hopefully, this girl could do something about the Princes interfering with his crime syndicate. If she was as tough as she looked, which she appeared to be, then he would have very little excess competition in the upcoming months.

However, his hope dropped when he noticed that Cadence had never taken her boot off of his chest.

"Wait, aren't ya gonna let me go now?" Mr. White asked, very confused.

He was met with a bullet to the skull, and his body went limp. Cadence stepped off of him, and started to walk out of the factory. If Mr. White was in running to become a major crime leader, (which he said he was) then hopefully, he had some proper information for her to use. She didn't know why he assumed that he was going to be allowed to live. After all, he _was_ a criminal. But something Cadence did know, quite for certain, was that she would never be more relieved until she exited the horrid factory.

* * *

"So… what music do you like?" Dash asked Fiona, who as currently clutching the girl in front of her for dear life, as the two sped down the streets on Dash's bike. Dash was trying to pass the time, but Fiona was much more focused on her own safety to answer any of the questions.

"Could you slow down?" Fiona asked, terrified. "Please?" Dash shook her head.

"We can stop when we're _dead_," Dash responded.

"I don't think we'll have to wait long," Fiona said back. Dash was surprised by Fiona's rather sarcastic tone.

"When did _you_ develop a sense of sarcasm?" Dash asked. Fiona flushed.

"Oh…" Fiona said, embarrassed. "I, uh, didn't mean to say that out loud. My bad. Sorry." Fiona made a mental note to keep her thoughts to herself, although she quickly forgot this as she felt Dash accelerating.

The two rode down the streets with great haste, although Dash had no idea where she was supposed to go. Perhaps, just perhaps, she should have waited for Pinky to find anything before actually leaving. But, perhaps, she would never admit to herself that she made a wrong decision, and, for that reason, drove Fiona around in circles in order to give off the illusion that she had any idea of what she was supposed to be doing.

"Hey, Pinky, anything yet?" Dash asked aloud. Underneath her helmet was an earpiece connected back to the girls at Camelot. From over the phone, she could here Pinky let out a groan.

"Not really," Pinky admitted. "I mean, yeah, there's some stuff here, but I just don't like the look of any of it."

"Can't you just track her phone like a _normal_ government agency?" Dash questioned.

"Already did," Pinky said. "According to this, it says that she is at 14 Brooks Street, on the eastern edge of the city."

"Why didn't you tell us that before?" Dash said, clearly annoyed.

"Because I also managed to find the Korbalovs website," Pinky said. Fiona, who also heard the conversation, chimed in.

"They have a website?" Fiona asked in amazement.

"Yep," Pinky calmly said. "It's .com, Russian servers. Turns out the crime over there is so intense that they have a legally purchased website for mercenaries. Anyway, it lists their business credentials, and under the category of kidnappings, it says, and I quote, 'We guarantee that the victims will be untraceable throughout the entire operation. All possibilities, such as GPS untis, cell phones, or other such means of identifying location are accounted for'."

"So, they took her phone away and planted it somewhere else, basically," Fiona simplified the news.

"Well, yeah, if don't like reading, and instead like being a grumpy, old page-skimmer, sure," Pinky said in a childish manner. She regained her composure. "Now, here's something else I found. According to the website, they guarantee that when torturing people, they will keep them alive for two weeks, minimum."

"We knew that, Pinky," Dash groaned.

"Well, I've been thinking," Pinky said.

"_I've_ been thinking," Dash heard Tara call out from the phone.

"_We've_ been thinking," Pinky continued, annoyed. "Based on the strength the two displayed when they fought us, it seems like it would be impossible for them to keep someone alive for two weeks without eventually giving them medical attention. I mean, these guys can shatter bones by flicking people too hard."

Dash heard some static, and then she heard Tara on the phone.

"So," Tara continued, who had stolen the phone, feeling like she could provide a better explanation. "We know that Yuri Korbalov personally enjoys hurting people, which means the torture is most likely physical abuse. Let's say that he broke a bone every two hours. Well, he would have to eventually wrap up the wound, or else Rachel would probably go into shock, and die from the pain. Also, he needs to provide her with enough food and water to live, not to mention all of the blood he would eventually need to clean up. And, unless they have very subtle torture methods, there _will_ be blood."

There was more rustling as Pinky ripped the phone back from Tara's hands.

"Basically, they need to be in a very populated area of the city," Pinky explained. "Somewhere where they could get enough food to keep up their metabolisms, and treat Rachel's wounds to some degree. I'm running a search for any places that could fit these requirements."

"Pinky, focus!" Tara yelled.

"I'm busy _working_ here!" Pinky complained. Although neither Dash nor Fiona could see what was going on, they could only imagine the rather humorous appearance of two nearly crippled girls fighting over technology (although it was primarily Dash who thought this was funny, so much so that she nearly drove off the road from laughing too much, while Fiona gripped her friend ever tighter).

"No, you're not!" Tara yelled. "You're trying to buy a _My Special Princess_ doll!"

"Hey," Pinky said, taking offense. "If I'm not going to be able to move for a while, I can at least have some company!"

"Ladies, calm the fuck down!" Dash ordered, restraining her laughter. "Spark, stop bugging Pinky. Pinky, get your fucking act together."

"Well, I _would_," Pinky complained more. "But I've already found the area we are looking for. Dead center of the city; there's a hospital, grocery store, and plenty of shady spots to hide. Problem is, I just don't know where they are specifically. I've got it down to a two mile zone and-... hey! Look at this!"

Pinky was now shouting in amusement, as, unbeknownst to Dash, Pinky had accidentally clicked her way to the local news website as she tried to buy herself a toy. She read aloud the article on the page.

"Remember how that crazy old guy was trying to take over WMH Enterprises?" Pinky said.

"You mean the perverted old fuck who tried to take over the Earth like, two days ago?" Dash said, remembering the experience. She could fondly say that she hated McCarther; her best memory of him was his head falling to the ground, and blood spurting from his severed jugular.

"Well, it says here that WMH Enterprises has made an official deal with the African country of Vitrumia to outsource its fuel," Pinky said, reading the article out loud.

"I bet Wilson's happy about that," Tara chimed in, albeit with disdain in her voice. "Vitrumia's been close allies with the US for at least a decade now, since its country's creation. America will get back some of its reputation, and that fuel _probably_ won't be going anywhere."

"At least The Unknown won't get his hands on it," Fiona added, trying to think of the positive side of things.

"Oh yeah, I forgot that hairy-palmed bastard was working with no-face," Dash replied in reminiscing. "Man, I forgot a _lot_ of shit that happened a few days ago. Hey, Fiona, did you know that the guy took me to a stri-"

Dash froze. As if a buzzer went off in her head, a brilliant idea sprang into her mind, causing her to slam on the brakes, an act which nearly sent Fiona flying off the bike.

"Pinky, quick!" Dash demanded. "Find out where the Ultimate Palace, Gentlemen's Club is."

With great haste, Pinky searched, and in a mere matter of seconds, she gave Dash the address. Without a moment's hesitation, Dash sped down the streets, Fiona desperately wrapping he arms around the girl.

"Dash!" Fiona shouted over the roar of the bike. "Where are we going?!"

"Strip club!" Dash shouted back.

"WHY?!" Fiona asked, not only extremely confused, but rather embarrassed as well. She had never imagined going to a strip club, and now, thinking of all the scantily-clad women dancing about, she became quite flustered.

"You'll see!" Dash said with a smirk. "I've got some people to visit!"

* * *

"I thought I fuckin _told_ you, nigga. I don't get high easy," Jerome complained. "Especially since Benny got capped."

The three men were once more sitting in the alleyway, passing the time, and trying to forget the events of the few nights before.

"But if yo ass is high," Jordan explained. "Then you aint got no worries."

"Testify to _that,"_ Anwar moaned out. The intense usage of marijuana was affecting him badly, and he could no longer feel the left side of his body.

"Is that all you motherfuckers do?" Jerome asked in anger. "One of your best niggas die, and you sit back and pop a mothafucka just like dat? Man, Benny's right, fool, we need to lay _off_ this shit."

"Complain then, bitch," Jordan said. "Why do niggers always gotta complain?" Jerome promptly stood up, walked over to Jordan, and punched him in the face. Jordan fell backwards off of his seat, and landed on the floor with a smack. "Jeez, what was that for, bro?"

"Who you calling a fucking nigger?!" Jerome shouted out.

"No one, bro," Jordan apologized, cowering in fear. "No one!"

"That's what I fucking thought, homie!" Jerome shouted back.

"HEY! GANGSTER ASSHOLES!" a voice called out from the end of the alleyway. Jerome turned towards the sound, and his eyes shot open wide when he saw who was at the end of the alley. Dash was leaning against the nearby wall, looking as cocky as before, although this time, there was a bandage covering her eye, and wrappings around her arm. Also, he saw that she had a friend with her, with flowing pink hair, a nervous yet beautiful complexion, and a bandage placed over her nose. Despite the wounds, Jerome felt horrified, and immediately turned to run out of the other end of the alley.

However, Dash didn't give him the chance to get far, pulling a gun out of her pocket and shooting Jerome in the leg. Jerome collapsed to the ground with a yelp, as Fiona jumped back in surprise.

"Whoa!" Fiona yelled out. "Where did you get that thing?" Dash shrugged.

"Stole it from Camelot," Dash said simply. "Hell, it's not even a challenge anymore."

She started walking towards the other men, who did not seem at all startled by her presence. While Jerome was attempting to crawl away from Dash, Jordan simply looked up at her in amazement, as her shadow lurched over him. He appeared dumbfounded, and perhaps it was the drugs, or perhaps it was fate, but she seemed like the most beautiful person in the world to him. Jordan opened his mouth to say something, but was greeted with a knee to the face, knocking him out. Anwar didn't move, instead just gazing at Dash in a sense of confusion. Dash walked over to him, and knocked the joint out of his hand, before roughly pushing him to the ground. Jerome tried to make his escape, but Fiona managed to block his path, allowing Dash ample time to walk over to him.

"Remember me, buddy?" Dash asked happily. "You tried to shiv me the other day. Then I murdered your friend. Anyway, I need your help with something."

"Fuck you, you crazy bitch!" Jerome shouted out. Dash sighed.

"If that's the best thing you can call me, then you really need to work on your insults, cum-licker," Dash said, unimpressed. "But back to matters… you live around this area, right?"

"I aint telling you shit!" Jerome called out.

"Look, tell us what you need, and maybe I won't have to cut your nuts off," Dash said threateningly.

"You cut my balls off, and I _really _aint telling you shit," Jerome repeated, even more defiantly.

"Please sir," Fiona suddenly interrupted. "We don't want to do any harm. Just, _please_, we need to know if there are any places that criminals might hide out in the general area."

Jerome paused.

"Wait… dat's all?" he asked, confused. "You don't need me to, like, put a cap on someone's ass or nothin'?"

"No," Fiona said softly, trying to remain nice. "Can you please just tell us if you know anything? Anything at all?"

"If it means getting you two bitches off my ass, then sure," Jerome hastily agreed. "See, there's this secret place we in da' hood know 'bout. Back behind the supermarket, there's this old rusty shack. Great place for hiding out drugs 'n shit. Most big gangs don't know about it cuz it's in too much of a crowded area, but my boys use it plenty."

"Behind the supermarket?" Dash reiterated. Jerome nodded.

"Yeah, it's blocked by this rusty set of planks," Jerome explained. "But I wouldn't go there if I was you. Hear some big fellas been seen stormin' about that bitch yesterday. I aint fucking with dem niggas."

Dash and Fiona looked at each other, realization dawning on them.

"Thank you so much," Fiona said, before quickly rushing out of the alley. Dash turned to follow her, but Jerome yelled after her.

"Hey," he shouted angrily. "What about my leg?!"

"Not my fucking problem!" Dash shouted back. "I don't _do_ drugs!"

Jerome groaned in pain, and tried his best to sit up. His leg hurt him terribly as he looked around. Anwar was slowly rising to his feet, wobbling about and holding his head.

"Shit, that was some crazy-ass shit, nigga," Anwar said. "Damn, Jordan's out cold."

"Anwar," Jerome said, extending his arm. "Just give me the mothafuckin' pot, will ya, nigga?"

* * *

It was getting late when the last member of the Princes fell. Two bullets ripped through his chest cavity, and he fell to the ground in a thud.

Cadence, covered with sweat and blood, stood alone among the fifty bodies that lay on the ground. She had been roaming the hideout for an hour, stealthily trying to find Rachel. It was an oversight that she had been spotted, but it didn't matter to her, as her skills were far superior to that of any of the gangbangers. Although she initially thought that once she was finished with the gang members she could continue searching, she now had many doubts that what Mr. White had told her was actually true. She had rummaged through every dark corner of the lot where the Princes rested, but she found nothing. There was no indication that the Korbalovs had ever shown up there, and she figured that she had been led on a wild goose chase. Cadence decided at this point to return back to Camelot, and get a decent night's rest before continuing the search in the morning. At least, she figured, it would give her more time to see members of P.O.N.Y. Although, there was _one_ person at the base that she wished to see more than others.

_Buzz Buzz Buzz_

Cadence, confused, reached into one of the pouches in of her uniform, and pulled out her cell phone. She slowly placed it to her ear.

"Um, hello?" Cadence said awkwardly.

"She's behind the Cargo's Supermarket downtown," a voice quickly said through the phone.

"Wait, who is this?" Cadence suddenly demanded. "How did you get this number?"

"It's Dash," replied the voice. "One of Spark's friends. Not important. Anywa-"

"Who's _Spark_?" Cadence asked, confused.

"Tara," the voice specified. "I'm the one who asked if you blew her brother, remember?"

"Oh, you," Cadence said, not particularly pleased. "Wait, how do you know this? What are even talking about? And how _did_ you get this number?!"

"Just get there!" the voice demanded. "The Korbalovs are hiding there, behind some old planks. There's a secret hideout in the back alley. MOVE!"

"Shouldn't you be back at the base?" Cadence said. She heard a groan.

"Do you want to stop being a bitch and get over there already?!" the voice yelled. "We're going back to the base right now. Try not to get raped over there, 'ey princess?"

The person on the phone hung up, and Cadence put the phone back into the pouch. Reluctantly, she walked out of the Princes' lot, and got into her car. She was pretty sure that the person on the phone was who she claimed to be. There wasn't anyone else who would remember that conversation regarding her husband and the rather radical deeds they had performed in their youth. However, she could not say that she greatly trusted Dash's information. She did not have any sort of liking for the girl, and she would not be surprised if this was all leading up to some trap or sick joke. Regardless, it was the only lead she had to follow, and it would not take her long to investigate. At best, she would actually find what she was looking for. At worst, she would possibly kill some less than effective thugs, and she would get to the base about twenty minutes later than expected. She turned on the ignition, and started the ten minute drive down to the supermarket.

When she finally arrived at the market, the sun was setting, causing an orange hue to be painted across the sky. Cadence parked across the street, and, before leaving the car, threw on a thick coat as to not attract attention to her special ops uniform. She got out of the car, and walked across the street. The wind was soft, blowing a few strands of hair over her face, which she brushed out of the way. Cadence looked up at the sky, taking in the sunset, which was mostly blocked out by the tall buildings surrounding her. She had not remembered the last time she had seen the sunset. She had been so busy as of late that she had such little time to truly enjoy the world around. She supposed that was the cost of war, but deep down, she would have traded anything else to keep the pristine beauty of the world intact. However, she tossed those thoughts aside, as she crossed into the alley behind the market.

The alley was only twenty yards wide, and it was narrowly squished between the market, and another tall, brick building, which seemed to have no particular purpose other than provide living quarters for cockroaches. The alley itself was empty, save for three things: first, a dumpster pushed against the market, second, a basketball, which had somehow managed to roll into the alley due to playing children, and thirdly, two big wooden crates, both four feet in length and square, pressing against the brick building. Cadence, curious, walked over to the two crates, and pushed them out of the way into the dumpster. She saw no back door or secret entrance in front of her, and she sighed. She felt rather annoyed that Dash had misdirected her, and made a mental note to get back at her once she returned to Camelot. She was about to relinquish the search, when she looked down, and in surprise, noticed that she was standing upon a wide panel, buried into the ground. The panel was a yard in width, and it could easily fit the Korbalovs massive size.

Cadence took out her gun, and reloaded it, before placing it in her holster in her waist. She bent down, and grabbed onto a small, rusted handle attached to the panel. She tugged hard, and, after a few seconds of intense pulling, managed to pry the panel open, and reveal what was hidden underneath. She saw a drop of ten feet, and a ladder placed at the edge of the hole. She took her gun out once more, and placed it into her mouth. She then slowly descended the ladder, falling into the shadows of the earth.

When she reached the bottom, she took out a flashlight, as well as her gun, and held them both at the ready. With a click, she turned on the flashlight. Before her was a corridor of about twenty five feet in length. It did not diverge any further, except for the four rusty doors on the walls, two on either side. Cadence slowly treaded forward, trying to make as little noise as possible. She quietly walked to the first door on her left, and, readying herself, flung the door open, and shone her flashlight inside. The room was small, and only contained two soft sheets, which were covered in dust. The blankets were incredibly large, and Cadence knew that they had to be made for larger individuals. Despite the gathering dust, they appeared to be recently used, suggesting that someone had used them recently. Now more cautious than ever, Cadence shut the door, and opened the one on her right. The next room was also devoid of people, but did contain a rather large amount of illegal drugs, stacked nearly as high as Cadence herself. Cadence slowly walked away from the room, having no further business with it, and moved further down the corridor. She could hear the busy streets above her, as people walked about in the closing supermarket, trying to get food before the store was shut for the night. It put her off ease, knowing that such horrific events could happen so close to ordinary people. Cadence now found herself at the end of the hall. She noticed something on the door to the right, but she decided to avoid it for the moment. She peered into the room on her left, and noticed that the room was filled with canned goods, beef, bacon, pork, bandages, ropes, splints, and a microwave. Noticing the room was devoid of human life as well,, Cadence quickly turned around and looked at the last door. Attached to the door was a slip of paper, taped to the wood. On it was written, in messy handwriting,

_Too Late._

The message was written in blood.

With wide eyes, Cadence kicked the door in, and shone the flashlight into the room. A horrible odor reached her nose, causing her to cover her face with one hand. Looking around, she could see that the room could only be ten feet in length. In the middle of the room was an old chair, which was covered in a plethora of bodily fluids. Blood was splattered against the walls and floor, puddles of it laid all around the room. Dried vomit was sprayed in front of the chair, and everything mixed together to create a putrid sight. It was quite clear to Cadence now that someone had to be tortured in this room. But was it who she was looking for? Cadence didn't have to wait long to see.

Suddenly, she saw movement behind the chair. Someone was on the floor, and was lying still for so long that they had completely blended into the background. Cadence cautiously walked up to the person, and with disgust, witnessed one of the most disfigured people she had ever seen. The woman before her had every inch of her body covered in her own blood, and let out a soft moan as she writhed in agony. She had violet hair, which was now stained a dark red from being coated in blood, and a light complexion, which was now tainted with crimson. Her clothes were cut and torn as multiple knife wounds imprinted on her form. Her hands were tied behind her back with a thick rope, and her palms were cut open, including slits between each of her fingers. A long scar traced across her right arm, although it appeared to be older that the other cuts, some of which still dripped with fresh blood. Parts of her body that weren't caked in the substance were badly bruised, swelling horribly. Some of her bones seemed to be badly bent out of place, and she could see the puss festering under the wounds. The woman's face spared no expense. Her nose was crooked, her cheeks were black and blue, and her lips were clipped badly. Thick, blood-soaked bandages had been wrapped around her eyes, cutting off the view of the upper half of her face. Blood rolled down her cheeks from under the bandages, making the wrappings damp, which Cadence assumed were due to a bad cut across the eyes. Cadence recognized the girl from an image she was shown earlier, despite the horrible injuries that covered her.

It was Rachel Germain.

Cadence, trying not to startle the poor girl, very slowly placed her hand upon Rachel's arm. It immediately became apparent how cold Rachel was to the touch. Despite the sudden warm contact, Rachel barely moved, instead shivering at the impact.

"Rachel," Cadence spoke kindly. "My name is Cadence Sullivan. I'm here to get you help."

Rachel muttered something incoherent. Cadence, tried moving Rachel into her arms, but was met with protests from the girl in the form of pained groaned.

"Rachel, it's alright," Cadence said. "I'm working with Wilson. Everything will be okay now."

Rachel muttered something again, this time louder and more clearly.

"Ihmzory" Rachel spoke, her voice still soft. Cadence leaned in closer to Rachel in order to make out the groans.

"What was that?" Cadence asked.

"I'm…I'm _sorry_," Rachel managed to get out. Every syllable strained her immensely, and she felt as if she were to die at any moment.

"It's not your fault, Rachel," Cadence softly said. "They did some horrible things to you here, but it's over now. We're going back home."

"I'm sorry," Rachel repeated. Now that Cadence listened closely, it almost sounded as if Rachel was sobbing.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Cadence said. But Rachel continued with her mantra, shuddering as each words left her damaged lips.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel said once more. "I… I failed."

"You didn't fail anyone, Rachel," Cadence tried to explain.

"You don't understand," Rachel said sorrowfully. "I'm a failure. I failed _everyone_."

"How?"

"They… they told me it would _stop_," Rachel said slowly. "They kept pushing and pushing, and I just couldn't bare it any more. I was too weak to be of use to anyone. I gave in because I was _selfish_."

"Rachel… what did you do?" Cadence asked, getting concerned.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Rachel repeated. Now clutching Rachel close to herself, Cadence asked in desperation.

"Rachel, what did you tell them?" Cadence asked.

"I… couldn't take it anymore," Rachel said slowly. "I was a coward. I acted for myself instead of staying true to the cause."

"Rachel, what did you tell them?" Cadence pleaded. Rachel, without moving, spoke in a hoarse whisper, with was racked with sobs.

"I… I told them where the base was," Rachel finally spat out.

With horror, Cadence realized why the Korbalovs were not present.

Cadence pulled out her phone as fast as she could. In a panic, she dialed in Wilson's number, and held the phone to her ear.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel repeated once more. However, no one heard her pathetic cries, for Cadence was far too concerned with the fact that no one was answering her call.

* * *

The raid on Camelot should not be called an easy task. In preparation for the worst, an attack squad was called in to defend to the base at all costs. With them, they carried the latest equipment, all in hopes that the new leaps in technology would be able to take down the two most powerful men in the world. The attack team carried forty members, and was divided into three. The first twenty was sent out in front of the restaurant, and was calmly waiting behind the cover of several military jeeps. The next ten were dispatched in the hallways of the base, and were lurking around every corner to surprise the enemy. The last ten were ordered to stay around the computer room, in which Wilson had been bunkered. Seven waited outside the room, while three waited within. The system was specifically designed to constantly wear the Korbalovs down, and it was hoped that if they did discover the location of the base, the military would be ready for them. The raid on Camelot should not be called an easy task.

It _should_ not be called an easy task. That doesn't mean that it _wasn't_.

It all started with a speck in the sky. The sun was starting to set over the horizon, and the soldiers out front took very brief time off of their schedule to look up and try to enjoy it. After all, they only had suspected that the Korbalovs might try to attack, but they had no actual proof at this point. So, it seemed like a perfectly fine thing to do, as the sunset was rather beautiful. But, one solider happened to notice something very peculiar about the sky. In the normally deep orange sky, there was a black speck. He couldn't tell how high up it was, but it looked like it was falling towards him. The soldier rubbed his eyes, but the speck would not leave. In fact, it appeared closer than ever before. Now that it was closer, some of the other soldiers noticed it too. Also, a strange humming sound was now ringing through the air. By this point, nearly all men looked up at the speck, as it was now fast approaching them. The speck now no longer looked like a speck, but a man. A very big man, with two crimson arms, held bend at side, hands clasped together, as if he were about to swing a bat at the air.

While some soldiers attempted to fire at the man, it was a futile effort, and he eventually collided with the ground, slamming his arms into the pavement. A shockwave ruptured throughout the earth, sending rock, cars, shrapnel, and men flying about in all directions. The blast was so intense that it rattled throughout the ground, and even reached the ears of the P.O.N.Y's inside of the medical wing.

As Kristov stood up from his attack, a vehicle pulled around the side of the building. The dark grey vehicle was built like a tank, and rested on top of it was a large minigun, which could be accessed from inside. The van came to a screeching halt outside the base, running over one of the soldiers in the process. From out of the tank came Yuri, grinning happily at the carnage around him. With no resistance, the two men marched into the base.

Meanwhile, inside, the girls were starting to panic; the chaos outside filling their minds, and reminding them painfully of their first encounter with the two Russian monstrosities.

"What do we do?" Tara asked to no one in particular. "They're in the base."

"I know, Tara," said AJ, trying to calm her leader down. AJ could see that Tara was losing control of the situation, and once Tara stopped being in control, she stopped thinking properly.

"We're all going to die," Tara said to herself.

"Tara, calm yourself," AJ reassured. "We aint gonna die."

"Yes we are," Tara said grimly. Pinky was watching the two girls talk, staying relatively calm herself. Her eyes back and forth across the room as Tara talked about death, while AJ tried to give her new life. While Pinky could hear the girls argue, she could also hear what was going on outside their door.

"Guys," Pinky said, straining her ears. "I think they are inside."

"Damn it," Tara muttered. "How can we do anything about this _now_? They're just gonna march around in here like crazy until they kill us _all_. Oh my God, this the end…"

"TARA, ENOUGH!" AJ suddenly yelled. Tara stopped speaking. "No one is going to die, Tara. Once Cadence and the others get back, everything will be alright. Until then, we are going to have to do what we can to stall them.

"Um, AJ, I hate to interrupt," Pinky said. "But we, uh, are kinda not able to move right now."

AJ paused for a moment. She could hear the screams of the soldiers from right outside the door, and yet she was powerless to do anything about it. Throughout her life she had always managed to find a way to overcome the odds. No matter what problem she encountered, she could always end up beating it. It simply was a matter of trying hard enough.

So, taking deep breaths, AJ slowly unplugged herself from the machinery which surrounded her bedside. Incredibly slowly, and in tremendous pain, AJ rotated herself around, and then stood up off of the bed.

"AJ, what are doing?" Tara asked, bewildered. "You'll get yourself _killed_."

"I have to do something," AJ said through the pain. She forced herself to walk towards the door. Her entire body burned with an intense fire, but this only gave her drive to go on. "If we do nothing, then we fail. If we try, we can at least have a _chance_ of victory. If I had to fight and die, or surrender and live, I'd rather fight any damn day."

AJ, despite the relentless protesting, opened the door in front of her, just in time to see a soldier fly across the hallway. AJ took a deep breath, and walked out of the door. She closed the door behind her, and turned her head to the left. She saw Yuri, smugly grinning at her, and Kristov, who was incapacitating another soldier.

"Hey, brother, look," Yuri said, pointing at her. "She's still alive. I guess you can have a clear conscience after all."

"This is over," AJ said fiercely. "You're not getting any further than this."

Yuri snickered. "Kristov, go on and find Wilson. I'll take care of the girl."

Kristov nodded, and ran past AJ. She attempted to strike him as he moved, but was forced to dodge one of Yuri's attacks instead. She rolled out of the way, the motion hurting her horribly. She got back to her feet, and took up a fighting stance, barely able to bring her one non-broken arm up to her face. Yuri laughed, and reached behind his back.

"Man, I've been waiting to use this on a target for years," he said with a grin. He pulled a sledgehammer off of the holster on his back, and gripped it tightly in his hands. AJ showed no fear.

"What are you waiting for, you son of a bitch?" AJ said coldly. Yuri smirked and charged at her. He brought the hammer over his head, and then tried to bring it down upon her. But even in her weakened state, she rolled out of the way. He swung again, each swing taking a painfully long time to follow through. This gave AJ plenty of time to move out of the way, although it was putting a massive strain on her body. She was starting to feel woozy, and her ribs felt like they were melting. Still, she fought on. She ignored every will of her body to quit. But Yuri was relentless, starting to swing faster and faster. AJ knew that eventually, she would have to attack him, but she painfully remembered the last time she threw a punch at the two men. However, it was becoming necessary, so she now raised her left arm to attack.

Her opportunity came when Yuri missed his next attack. Rolling behind him, she chopped directly at his back. However, he was quite prepared for this attack. He dropped the hammer, quickly turned around, and grabbed onto her left arm with his right hand. Next, he took her right arm with his left hand, and then yanked her towards him. He pressed their foreheads together, and stared directly into her eyes, grinning, as she struggled to break free.

"I have to say, you're doing quite well for someone with twenty broken bones," he said, staring coldly at her. She persisted to struggle in vain as he spoke. "But, unfortunately, you are interrupting me with a _very_ important assignment, so I must cut our little date short, I'm afraid. It's been a _real_ pleasure, though."

Yuri, without warning, slammed his head into AJ's, sending her flying across the room. Her forehead was covered in blood, and she thought another bone might be broken from the fall, but she stood up again anyway. She rose just in time to receive a brutal punch to the stomach, and she fell over, unable to stand any longer. Yuri waved her farewell and picked up his hammer, as he ran off to catch up with his brother. AJ reached out an arm towards his fading form, desperately trying to do anything to halt his progress. But finally, her body failed her, and she once more slipped back into unconsciousness.

Meanwhile, in the computer room, Wilson and Celestia were discussing something of the utmost importance, as they heard the disruptions outside their door.

"I'm not going in there," Celestia argued. "My job is-"

"Not as important as your life," Wilson said sternly. "We can't afford to have both of us fall to these men. Then the entire project will be deemed a failure."

"But General," Celestia tried to argue.

"Bridgette, you've done plenty," Wilson said. "Now, get back into the panic room. I'll take it from here."

Celestia scorned, and then rotated back and struck her fist against the wall. Beneath her, a two-feet wide hole opened up in the wall, revealing a small, secret room. If they were to be looking for it, the Korbalovs would have most likely found it, so Wilson decided to effectively draw their attention away from it at all costs. Celestia reluctantly managed to squeeze through the small hole, and she closed herself into the wall. She managed to get in just in time, as Kristov immediately blew the door off of its hinges. It landed in front of the General's feet, as the three soldiers opened fire at the man. Kristov raised his arms to his face, blocking the shots with ease. Suddenly, Yuri sprang out from behind him, lunging to one soldier, and ripping his head off of his body. He took out his hammer, and hit the second man in the ribs, before hitting the third man in the back. With all three men down in one way or another, Yuri finally looked upon the man who he had been searching for for _years_.

"Wilson," Yuri said, grinning. "You look fatter. Like pork. Big, fat, disgusting, putrid _pork_."

"You two are insane," Wilson stated. "Coming in here, attacking my base. Attacking my operation. Do you feel no shame for the lives you took?"

"I feel shame for not murdering those children as I passed them by a few seconds ago," Yuri said with a grin. "Regardless, we have wasted far too much time, Anthony. If you would allow us to take you back with us…"

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Wilson said forcefully. He raised his arms, and prepared to fight. "I've spent thirty years in the military. I know how to handle scum like you."

To this, Yuri laughed.

"Kristov," Yuri said, now growing serious. "You ready for this?"

Kristov nodded, taking a fighting stance. Wilson suddenly charged at the bigger man, readying his fist for a strike. He swung hard, but Kristov swung harder. Their fists collided with each other, and every bone in the General's hand shattered instantly. He clutched his hand in pain, before Yuri tackled him to the ground, and started pounding on him mercilessly. Every blow sent blood splattering out of Wilson, and Yuri screamed at him with every punch. Eventually, Kristov had to pry Yuri off of the man, so that Wilson would not die from his wounds.

"Remember the plan, Yuri," Kristov said sternly. "We take him back to Russia. Make him suffer in the cold. Then we kill him."

"Yeah, yeah," Yuri said, regaining his composure. "I guess we'll have to put that Discord contract on hold. We can't hold _everyone_ for torture at once. Make sure Discord finds out that we have to stop trying to kill the teens for a while, if he _really _wants them to suffer. He'll probably be mad. But it's worth it. Oh, so worth it."

He grinned, and then picked up the General, flinging the limp body over his shoulder. The two walked out of the base with tremendous pride, and a happy sensation in their hearts. Meanwhile, hearing the threat had left, Celestia crawled her way out of the panic room, and looked around at the remains of the base. She quickly ran over to one of the few living soldiers, and woke him from his slumber.

"Wake up," Celestia ordered. The solider stirred, and struggled to rise to his feet. Celestia held him down, however, making sure he didn't break any bones.

"Ma'am, what happened," the soldier asked.

"Wilson was taken away by the Korbalovs," Celestia said grimly. "Can you rally the troops?"

"No," the soldier said. "I don't think there is any one left to rally."

"Damn, they're going to get away," Celestia said, angrily. "Wilson is in charge of the operation, and we need to get him back immediately."

"Ma'am, if Wilson is gone," the solider said. "Well, you know that if he is absent in the call of duty, then all responsibility of the operation falls on-"

"I know," Celestia said. She didn't particularly want to hear what he had to say, but she knew it anyway. She feel like it should be happening, but she had no real say in the matter.

"What are your orders, then," the solider asked. "_Chairwoman_ Celestia."

The words filled her mind with grief. She didn't ask to become head of the operation. But taking up responsibility, she did the first thing her instinct told her to do.

"We need to split up," Celestia stated. "Get the girls, and tell them to go to Point Vertigo in Albany, New York. I'll go back to Washington. Tell the others who are out, too. Things are going to be quite different from here on out, and we need to get ready for it."

* * *

**November 8th, 2015**

To say the trip was confusing would be an understatement. Not only did Tara have no idea where he was going, but she didn't know why either. She saw nothing wrong with staying in Philadelphia, but she knew that there had to be some reason. However, it didn't seem to matter much, as in the new base, she was still restricted to a medical bay, which all of her friends were held in. She hadn't heard much, but what she did hear was very important. For starters, she heard that Rachel was found, and she was being sent to a hospital first, before being transported to the base. Secondly, she got word that Cadence had to go to Washington D.C. She wished she had gotten to spend more than a few minutes with her friend, but she got word that Cadence might return after a few months. Lastly, she heard that the Korbalovs got away. It didn't surprise her much, but it was notable, nonetheless. Now, as she sat in the medical bay of Point Vertigo (which looked nearly identical to the last one she was in), she was caught in the midst of speculation and rumor among her friends.

"Why do these fuckers have to keep dragging us to new locations?" Dash complained. "What is so important that we could not stay at Camelot? I was actually starting to like the place."

"The Korbalovs wrecked it pretty badly," said AJ, trying to recover from her latest wounds. Aside from a constant feeling of nausea, AJ hadn't felt too much of an effect from her latest beating. "The whole lot of it must be destroyed."

"Still, it sucks," Dash said.

"I think the Korbalovs are aliens," Pinky said.

"Pinky, we already _know_ what they are," Fiona said. "They are people."

"Aliens are people too," Pinky said, somewhat offended, as if she felt the sorrow of the extraterrestrials. Suddenly, the door opened, and a man walked inside. With him, he carried a rolling platform, and on top of that platform was a small, flat monitor. The screen suddenly flicked on, and the face of a beautiful, blonde woman appeared, sitting in a dark office space.

"Celestia," Tara said. "What's going on? What happened?"

"I have some rather unfortunate news to share with you all," Celestia said sorrowfully. "First of all, the Korbalovs have escaped back to Russia, with General Wilson as hostage. As such, I humbly accept the responsibility as the overseer of this operation."

"Really?" AJ asked in disbelief. "He's actually _gone_?"

"I'm afraid so," Celestia said. "I'm here in Washington D.C, discussing matters of the highest importance. As such, I cannot be there with you at the time, so this video chat will have to do. By the way, this will be your new base until we can repair the damages done to Camelot. It might take a while though."

"How long?" Fiona asked. Celestia shrugged.

"We don't know," she admitted. "A few months, perhaps. Anyway, we need to talk about the most important matter: Rachel."

"How is she?" Tara asked, growing concerned. "Is she alive?"

"She's alive," Celestia said, grimly. "But, there have been some rather… _unfortunate_ complications. The man who's standing by the screen is Dr. Marrow, and he is helping Rachel recover. I think he can explain things better than I could."

"Thank you, ma'am," said the doctor. "Now, regarding your friend, the damage was pretty severe. We had her checked into the hospital for a couple of days, but now, we have had her delivered here."

"What happened?" Tara asked once more.

"She received numerous lacerations across the body," the doctor started. "She has five cracked ribs, a broken ankle, two shattered knees, broken hands, and that's not even half of the things wrong with her. It's quite a miracle she's even alive. But there are even worse things. In particular, an almost life-threatening cut to the neck, hairline spinal fracture, and… her _eyes_."

"Wait," AJ said, worried. "What happened to her eyes?" The doctor coughed, looking very uncomfortable.

"In the field of medicine," he stated, ignoring the question. "We are taught that almost anything is possible with the proper technology. Using our technology, we believe that, eventually, Miss Germain will make a full recovery, broken bones and all. But… we can't do _anything_ about her eyes."

"Why can't you do anything?" Tara questioned. The doctor sighed.

"Look, there is no easy way to describe this situation, so I'm just going to simply tell you," the doctor said. "The reason we can't fix her eyes… is because we can't _find_ them."

"What…what do you mean, 'you can't find them'?" Fiona spoke up, terrified.

The doctor took a deep breath.

"She doesn't _have_ eyes anymore," the doctor stated grimly. "They were forcibly removed from the skull; torn right out at the optic nerve. They're _gone_."

Silence filled the air. There was absolutely nothing, no words to describe the awful feelings in each of the girls' chest. Most of them felt sick, some felt afraid. To think that something so hideous, so awful as that could happen to someone like Rachel was almost too much to bare. It seemed impossible. It _had_ to be impossible. There just didn't seem anyway that the doctor could be right about this. He simply _had_ to be wrong. But, as the doctor continued explaining, everything slowly set in to reality. He told them how she would be blind for the rest of her life. He explained how since the nerve was torn, any chance of restoring her sight was out of the question. He told them about the complications of dealing with possible infections, and a necessary surgery to seal up the damaged eye sockets. He didn't bother to tell them about the horrific pain Rachel was in, but they managed to figure it out, regardless. Feeling that there was nothing left to say to the girls, Celestia requested the doctor bring in Rachel, and then leave them alone for the day.

None of the girls had the stomach to look when Rachel rolled into the room on her bed. She was placed against the wall, facing everybody, yet she could see none of them. When they finally did look at Rachel, the sight was too painful. Rachel sat upright on the bed, unmoving, her body covered with casts, cuts, and bruises. But what was most horrible was the bandages that were wrapped around Rachel's face, covering her eyes from the world. None of the girls could tell if she was even awake or not, or if she could feel the people staring at her, shocked and amazed at the freak with no eyes. It wasn't hard to imagine the absolute misery Rachel must have been feeling, and the sensation of quietness had become infectious, fastening each of the girls' tongues to the back of their mouths.

After many painful minutes of silence, Fiona finally spoke up, hoping to break through the dreadful emptiness.

"Hey, Rachel," she spoke up. "How are… how are you feeling?"

Rachel said nothing.

"Rachel, I'm sorry about what happened," Tara said softly.

Rachel didn't move, her head remaining sunken slightly forward.

"Damn it, look at us," Dash suddenly complained, with the same rambunctious attitude as ever. "Acting like a bunch of sissies because of a fucking injury. Stop acting like pussies guys. That means you too, Rachel. Being blind doesn't mean you can just mope about like a fucking heroin addict every day of your life."

"Dash…" AJ scolded. _"Not_ the time."

However, Tara, in some bizarre manner, actually understood what Dash was trying to do, or at least she thought she did. In some ways, Dash was actually helping more than any of the rest of them. Dash was acting like it wasn't a big deal; like everything was fine, and no one really cared. In some weird way, by Dash acting like it wasn't an issue, maybe Rachel wouldn't think so as well. Maybe, just maybe, Dash hoped that if everyone acted like normal, everything would _become_ normal. It would stop feeling like death and despair. Rachel would stop feeling like a freak. Maybe they would all end up being okay.

But things weren't okay. Rachel didn't have _eyes_ anymore.

Suddenly, Tara felt mad. Really mad. Incredibly mad. The same kind of ferocity a cornered animal had. Everything was sinking in to her, and it just didn't seem fair. It seemed like all of their hard work had been for naught, like they had been climbing the highest mountain in the world, and someone pushed them off the ledge before they stood on the top. Tara felt angry not just for herself, but for Rachel. Tara realized that Rachel's life was practically over. Rachel was a fashion major, and without sight, her primary dream could never be accomplished, no matter how much effort was put into it. Not to mention the fact that Rachel could now hardly do anything at P.O.N.Y. anymore. Fighting their enemies was out of the question when the girl could not see anything at all. In fact, what was Rachel to do with her life from this point forwards? Everything she knew to that point was stripped away in the most horrible manner, leaving Rachel trapped in a cold, black world of lost hopes and shattered dreams, and Tara hated it.

She hated _them_.

"We need to find them," Tara suddenly spoke. She was met with confused glances. "The Korbalovs. We need to hunt them down. Kill them. Make them pay for everything."

"Tara, are you alright?" Fiona asked. She couldn't help but notice the growing hate in Tara's tone. And this terrified her, far more than the Korbalovs ever could.

"I'm fine, Fiona," Tara said. "But they won't be. We need to get out of here, and take back everything they stole from us."

"Tara, we can barely move," AJ explained.

"Then we recover," Tara said. "We go to Russia, and we hunt those bastards down. If we're lucky, we can even get Wilson back. It'll be a rescue mission."

"Tara, you know what they can do," Fiona said. "We'd be doomed from the start." However, Dash immediately took a liking to the idea.

"Actually, it's perfect," Dash said. "It gives us an excuse for whooping some Russian ass. We wait a few months, train, perfect our skills, and then take the fight to them. They'll never see us coming. Hate to say it, Spark, but I like this mad plan of ours."

Tara grinned.

"Guys, this is our chance," Tara said confidently. "We need to do this."

"But, Tara-" AJ tried to protest, but was suddenly cut off.

"Please," a voice spoke up. Everyone turned towards Rachel in shock. She had not moved her head, but it was most certainly her who had spoken. Her voice was hoarse and weak, but it was unmistakably _her's_.

"We have to do it," Rachel said in a whisper. "If we don't, then why should we even bother to fight? Why bother existing without a cause to fight for."

After a few moments of silence, AJ sighed.

"Okay, Tara," AJ said reluctantly. "I'll join. Fiona? Pinky?"

Both girls slowly nodded.

"And Tara," Rachel spoke again. "_Please_… let me join you."

"Rachel," Tara started to protest, but was cut off.

"Please," Rachel begged. "I… I don't want to be worthless to this group ever again. I need to do _something. _Just… just let me join you."

Tara smiled, although Rachel would never see it.

"Okay, Rachel," Tara said. "You can come along."

And then, for the first time in days, Rachel smiled as well.

* * *

"You're plan is falling to shit!" Sombra screamed out. He was pacing back and forth across the room, as The Unknown sat at the wooden table. "First, Discord proves to be a failure. Now, Moon's dead! She's _dead_!"

"I know," The Unknown spoke calmly. "But it doesn't matter that her job was a failure. Your country of Vitrumia got the fuel regardless."

"But we are being picked off one by one!" Sombra shouted. "What if they target the King next? Then what?"

"Then you _kill_ them," The Unknown said. "You of all people should not be worrying about death."

"That is not the point!" Sombra yelled. "The point is that these girls are going to fuck up this whole plan, and you don't seem to be doing shit to stop them!" Sombra paused for a moment. "And where the hell is Chrysalis?!"

"Calm yourself, Sombra," The Unknown said. "First of all, these minor setbacks are not interfering with the plan at all. If anything, we are moving ahead of schedule. Second, as long as you do not fail, this plan will work fine, and then everything I promised you will be yours. And third, do you not remember what our dear friend Chrysalis is?"

"A Macer," Sombra responded.

"And do you know what she can do?"

"She can-" Sombra said, before suddenly realizing what The Unknown was getting at. "Oh, I see. So _that's_ where she has been hiding out."

"Of course," The Unknown said. He briefly left the room, and returned carrying two wine glasses, and a bottle of the substance. As he poured, he talked. "While she destroys them from the inside, _we_ can carry out the plan. I've been waiting too long for this. It seems like an eternity. But now, we will _finally_ have what we want."

"You brilliant bastard," Sombra said happily. He took one of the wine glasses, and raised it in the air, as they both took a seat at the table. "I should really stop doubting you. A toast." The Unknown raised his glass as well. "To the end of their world…"

_Clink_

"…and the beginning of ours."

* * *

Cadence walked down the halls at rapid pace. She had waited too long for this, and now, she could finally bring it all to an end. She walked faster and faster with each step, trying to reach the office as fast as possible. Finally, the door was in her sight. The office of Chairwoman Bridgette Celestia lay before her, and only one woman awaited her. After years of searching, and days of relentless torment, she could finally be with Celestia alone. But as she neared the door, three guards stopped her.

"Halt," they ordered. "No one is allowed to see Celestia except under heavy guard."

"But she asked to speak with me," Cadence argued. "It's very important, and very private."

"You can't go in there ma'am," a guard spoke. "Not by yourself. Celestia is on lockdown in here, due to General Wilson's sudden capture. As such, we are required to protect her at all costs. And as such, no one is allowed to be alone with her."

"Can you please just let me in?" Cadence said, very annoyed. "It's _urgent_."

"No, ma'am," the guard spoke. Cadence groaned, and marched away.

It didn't seem fair to her. She had waited so long, and had come so close. But now, once again, Celestia eluded her. But this time, Cadence could wait. She could wait as long as she needed to. The deer had been found, and now it was simply a matter of firing. One way or another, she would have what she came for. She knew she was supposed to be with the girls, but this was far more important than her assignment. She could pretend all that she wanted that she cared when she really did not. Now, it would be so easy to get to the prey. Besides, what were the benefits of shape shifting if she could not do with ease what was previously impossible? Once Celestia came out of her rabbit hole, then the snake could finally feed. It wouldn't be long now. Maybe a few days, maybe a few weeks, maybe a couple of months. But it was over now. It was finally over.

_Can't hide any more, Bridgette,_ Cadence thought with a sadistic grin. _It's finally time that you die._

**End of Chapter 6**


End file.
